


Five Times The Human Torch And Spider-Man Failed At Being Incognito, And The One Time They Didn't Even Try

by Morwyn_K



Category: Fantastic Four, Fantastic Four (Comicverse), Spider-Man (Comicverse), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Best Friends, Domestic, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Humor, I mean technically slow burn bc this fic pans over a few years even though it's like 25K words, Identity Reveal, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not MCU compliant, Not Spider-Man: Homecoming Compliant, POV shifting from chapter to chapter, Secret Identity, Secret Identity Fail, Slow Burn, and their failures are full of unnecessary bullshit because I decided so, basically they try to be sneaky and fail, spideytorch - Freeform, teenage spideytorch, to Young Adults(TM) spideytorch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-06-02 09:42:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19438852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morwyn_K/pseuds/Morwyn_K
Summary: There is no better bonding experience than sneaking around together (or, alternatively, around each other) and utterly failing at it.In which Peter Parker and Johnny Storm :- are not that talented at infiltration ;- really need to sharpen their acting skills ;- should not be categorized as subtle heroes ;- should not be considered as talented at social interaction, either, for that matter ;- and most importantly, see their relationship evolve over the years (it's not romantic, they're friends. Not that they don't wish for more, but the other just doesn't feel that way, okay ?)OR : Five times the Human Torch and Spider-Man failed at being incognito, and the one time they didn't even try





	1. As spies

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is kind of AU because I play around with relationships and timelines, but it's mainly inspired by the 616 comics, in which Peter has 0 friends until college. In this AU Captain Stacy dies when Peter is still in high school and therefore before he meets Gwen, but it's not that important, just a small detail I wanted to clear up. I left the boys' dating history blurry on purpose, you can fill the gaps by yourself if you want to.

  
  


Not for the first time that night, Johnny questioned his own sanity, and blamed his current whereabouts on his troubled childhood. 

It was his tragic family history's fault if he ended up in such a situation. Yep, no other explanation. Free will was a lie, because his brain had been constructed by the adults closest to himself when he was little and they didn't put enough solid foundations for him to develop as a functioning teenager. 

So. All their faults if he was currently infiltrating a meet-up of two gangs in Spidey's company, out of their heroes outfits, and all of that without seeing an inch of the vigilante's face. Life was damn unfair.

At first he'd been skeptical of Spidey's bright idea. Sneaking in as participants at the meeting seemed impossible : he had known that the vigilante would die before showing his face, and Johnny's own was too famous for him to hope to be incognito in a crowd, especially one filled with lawless criminals.  
They probably kept a poster of him pinned to a board so they could throw small arrows at it, suffering with the painful and frustrating knowledge that they could never even dream of flicking him on the forehead (or so his ego insisted.) He had assumed that they would be stopped instantly if they refused to reveal their faces at the entrance of the shady garage. 

Spider-Man had dismissed his concerns, arguing that he "knew the password" thanks to some recon mission he had executed a few nights ago, and that the point of these kind of reunions was to intimidate your rivals without them having any idea who the fuck you were. 

But now, standing behind one of the mobs' boss (who obnoxiously sat in a chair while they all had to stay still on their feet, what a douchy power move), he had to admit that there were more masked men around them than not.  
Some wore scarfs all over their heads, leaving only their eyes uncovered. A bunch had bandannas covering their mouth and nose. Others, probably high-ranked, sported carnival masks, either wolf-style or full face. Johnny was disappointed to note that none of them had the gut to wear a cat one. 

  


Distantly, he wondered if they had somehow wandered in a very kinky situation. 

His own bandanna tickled the bridge of his nose, and he pulled at it a little. Spider-Man elbowed him in the ribs and Johnny glanced at his left with an inquisitive stare, trying to convey the question "the hell do you want" without words or facial gestures.  
He could only see the side of Spidey's huge hood and a bit of his black scarf peaking out. He knew from earlier that the piece of cloth was so low on the vigilante's eyebrows that it cast a shadow over the his eyes. In the low light, Johnny had been unable to determine their color.

Communicating with him failed drastically.

"I don't see how that is my concern, Cresswell," drawled the rival mob boss. Johnny hadn't caught his name, or maybe he had but had then released it in the wild, so he decided to dub him Moisty in honor of the rings of sweat darkening his armpits. 

"You know as well as I do that your territory will be the next one, if you don't ally yourself with us."

 _'Our' leader's first name is Richard, so I call him Moby Dick,_ Spider-Man had said in his ear when they had entered the dark room. 

Moisty smirked and leaned back in his chair. 

"My people are more resilient than you can imagine ; a man is only a man, after all, superpowers or not. We outnumber him by far."

"Except that he is not alone, not anymore."

The room seemed to still. They were all so dramatic, Johnny thought. Moby Dick caught on the sudden tension and saw his opportunity to push :

"You noticed, didn't you ? Some 'heroes' have been sticking their mutt in places they don't belong. They aren't just arresting our guys when they stumble upon them doin' our business, either. They're targeting the organizations themselves, and you know it. They want to dismantle all of New York underground market."

"They can try, we'll retaliate," Moisty snorted, but he looked less self-assured than before. 

"We've been too obvious," Moby Dick insisted. "Most of them fuckers don't care if we do our business on their doorsteps, but something's changed. They're really onto us. Cops, too. I don't know who or what made them give up the blind eye policy, but one thing's sure : if they carry on taking us down one by one, we'll both be the next ones to fall."

Moisty hummed. "You know, I'm sure that the change doesn't come from them, but rather from the switch of _your_ activities."

Moby Dick squinted his eyes. Johnny felt the mob around him shift. "And what does that mean ?"

"Means that I know that you're covering your own ass right now," Moisty purred. "Don't play games with me ; you've never been the brightest out of the two of us. Be at least smart enough to recognize that. You're the one who spun the heroes' attention on us with your little brand new alien trafficking ring. You've delved your hands into circles that surpass your manpower, Cresswell. They didn't care when it was cute little teenage girls that you sold ; but people from out there ?" He pointed towards the sky. "Different story. Different scale."

Johnny perked up. This was what they had been waiting for ; now, if only they could reveal some more info, like how they captured the aliens and where they were detained...

  


_♪ Vrei sa pleci dar nu ma, nu ma iei_  
_nu ma, nu ma iei, nu ma, nu ma, nu ma iei_  
_Nu Ma, Nu Ma Iei, nu ma, nu ma, nu ma iei_  
_Chipul tau si dragostea din tei_  
_Mi-amintesc de ochii tai ♪_

  


Mortified, Johnny reached for his back pocket to cut off the blaring ringtone coming from his phone. His gloved hands struggled to swipe the "end call" button and he swore as he hurried to turn off the phone instead.

He looked back up to find himself facing an astounding number of incredulous eyes. Of Spider-Man's, he could barely see the glint, but his murderous intent still radiated from them as the whole room focalized on the idiot who forgot to mute his phone.  
That being said, he was pretty sure that he could catch a glimpse of some dude frantically putting his own phone on silent mode on the other side of the room, so he wasn't the only air-head here. He had probably saved this guy some embarrassment with his sacrifice.  
He hoped he was thankful at least. 

"Uh, sorry," the blond apologized with his best gravelly voice. 

"Your boys are pretty indisciplined, I see," Moisty laughed joylessly. But Moby Dick's suspicious stare held more than reproach for an incompetent minion. 

"When did you arrive ?" he asked. 

In the deadly silence, he could hear Spidey's breath hitch. The question felt somewhat heavy, and Johnny hesitated before answering.

"With the others."

  


What happened next was instantaneous.

"DUCK !" Spider-Man yelled as he pushed Johnny behind the thugs closest to them, his shout nearly drowned out by the gunshot that echoed in the empty room. Someone let out a string of swearwords as the smell of blood and powder permeated the air.  
Among the chaos, Johnny could hear the words "moles" and "pigs" spreading like wildfire. Spidey, who still had his fingers wrapped around his wrist, must have felt him about to flame on from the heat gathering beneath his skin, because he hissed loudly : "Don't. Too distinctive." _Let them think we're undercover cops,_ went unsaid. 

"How the hell am I supposed to fight then ?!"

From the corner of his eye, Johnny saw someone reaching to take out a knife out of the holster on their leg, and punched the dude in the gut so he could steal the weapon for himself. The blond, who was not looking forward to stabbing anyone, was suddenly overcome with the genius probably dormant in his genes as he caught sight of the single lightbulb in the room.

The knife he had borrowed may have been more adapted to cut some steak than to use as a throwing weapon, but even still darkness spilled in the room when it pierced the lightbulb, quick and accurate, surprising Johnny for the strength and skills it proved he had. All that heroing must have paid off somehow, he guessed. 

He realized that he was just as blinded as his enemies when he couldn't tell in which direction he had to go now. There were the limitations of his genius.  
Not only that, but the battle hadn't stopped, either ; the guy behind him tried to get him into a chokehold, and Johnny had to hit around him randomly to get himself out of the thug's hold. In the pitch black atmosphere, he could hear that Spider-Man had come to brawls with the mobsters around him.  
Luckily, the place was too crowded for someone to try to shoot them without any visibility, especially as they had been at the center of the attention only for a few seconds before Johnny managed to break the lightbulb. Most of the criminals in the room probably had no idea where they were at this point. Johnny weaved around them so they could hopefully start to fight one another instead of ganging up on him.

Rumors of Spider-Man's enhanced senses must have been true, because once the Torch extracted himself from the mobsters surrounding him he only stood still for a brief moment in static confusion before he felt fingers slipping into his and start to drag him away in the midst of criminals shouting indistinct orders at each other (the gesture took him off-guard, but then he understood that it was the fastest way to get a hold of him wordlessly without coming of as hostile.)  
Pushing and slipping between bodies, Johnny was just thinking that their improvised plan was going pretty seamlessly when Moby Dick's voice boomed :

"They're trying to run away, you buffoons ! Block the way out !"

 _Well shit._  
Spidey screamed :

"They're going to the boss ! Stop them ! "

It was in the resulting turmoil that they finally managed to reach the garage door and break it open in two kicks. A thug tried to grab Johnny's sleeve as he half-fell in the opening of the door, but he brushed him off by squeezing the outlaw's hand between his arm and the cutting plastic of the new entryway. He did not held back his triumphant grin at the enemy's yelp of pain. Fucker.

Spider-Man let go of him as soon as they were out and they ran down the dirty street, immediately chased by a bunch of mobsters firing at them. A bullet passed far too near Johnny's cheek for comfort. Distance had its pros and cons. 

"They won't follow us if we get to an avenue !" Johnny pointed out. He had to raise his voice to be heard above the sounds of gunshots. At midnight, the misty weather was in their favor, blocking out most of the street lights. Or maybe the thugs just had Stormtroopers-worthy aim. 

"Too risky, we could lead them to civilians," Spidey argued back. In the action, the part of the scarf covering his mouth and jaw had slipped down to his neck. He looked like a video-game villain, with his dark hood and the black cloth almost fully covering his eyes. "We need to lose them in alleys."

The blond could see his point, but it seemed that each building they passed was stuck to its neighbor and left no room to form a maze of alleyways. They were beginning to outpace their pursuers, but he was getting tired. He took off his bandanna so he could breathe more easily and stuffed it in his jean pocket. He was used to flying, not _running_ , goddammit ! 

After two turns, they finally ended up in a street with several tight passages. Johnny took off his jacket and threw it in a random alley, figuring that it would mislead their pursuers. The sound of feet hitting the pavement in a crazed race was distant enough that they could run past a few of them before Spidey chose one to duck into. Johnny followed him. 

Shouts echoing behind them indicated that the enemy had reached the street parallel to their alley. They had barely made a few steps in it when they noticed their mistake. There was no dumpster to fit into, no part in the wall jutting out so they could hide behind, not even a deep windowsill to jump onto. And, most importantly, it was a dead end. 

"Let's go up !" the vigilante whisper-yelled at him, already craning his neck to look at the rooftops he wanted to reach. 

"We don't have time, they'll see me if I flame on !" Johnny was starting to panic, brain spinning in all directions. They couldn't get discovered now ; if the traffickers knew that the FF were after them, they would lose all element of surprise and lower their chances at rescuing the captured aliens. The voices were getting nearer. 

"Shit, they're coming, quick-"

But Johnny didn't let Spider-Man finish his sentence. He grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him against the wall. Spidey offered no resistance, bewilderment twisting his mouth. Johnny put his left hand on the other man's cheek, purposefully obscuring his face from the mouth of the alley.

"Trust me, I have a plan."

"What ar- _mmph_ !"

Spider-Man jerked away from his lips, but Johnny's arm -wrapped around his lower back- didn't let him get far enough to actually break the kiss. One of Spidey's hand rose to his shoulder -no doubt to push him away- but the footsteps and exclamations got dangerously close to their hiding place, and Johnny tilting his head to mask it behind the vigilante's seemed to be enough for the latter to get on the program and not blow their cover by yeeting the blond on the opposite wall. 

Instead, his other hand came to rest at Johnny's hip, stiff and tense. Some of the enemies passed by the alley without stopping, but they could still hear others scourging the street, so they didn't let go of each other. 

It was terrible. Johnny tried to move his lips against Spider-Man's unresponsive (and cracked) ones, but the man had gone frozen between the wall and the blond's body. It was like trying to make out with one of those dummy for CPR practice. One who hadn't brushed its teeth after its last snack (not that Johnny had, either, but still).

"Hey, you two..." a voice grumbled suspiciously from the entry of the alley. The blond heard him take a few steps towards them. Shit. 

This spurred Webs enough to react and start to respond hesitantly to Johnny's press against his lips. Sensing an opening, Johnny bit down slightly on his lower lip. Spider-Man didn't get the hint, so he started to suck on it insistently, then changed tactics and slid his tongue against his lips and teeth, pushing slightly, which had the unfortunate effect of spreading spit all over both heroes' faces.  
Finally, Spidey quivered in his arms and opened his mouth enough for Johnny to slip his tongue inside to intensify their 'loving' exchange, despite the fact that Spider-Man's tongue didn't react to any of Johnny's caresses against it. 

It felt drooly. Oh god. Was he actually licking a dead slug ? He hoped that Spidey wasn't one of those mutants who had freaky poison abilities or he was going to die for sure, if that experience alone wasn't enough to do it. At least he couldn't feel any hidden pincers (yet?). He slowly brushed his tongue against the man's palate to make sure. Okay, no fangs masked behind his row of human teeth. The vigilante shuddered and let out a near-unintelligible whine. Woops, had he tickled him ? Crap, the thug was still getting closer. Crap crap crap.

Johnny sneaked a leg between Spidey's and got a few muffled _"Mn ! Nnnh !"_ for his efforts as Spider-Man was crowded even further into the wall. Ouch, he probably just bumped the back of his head against the building. Oh well. Johnny figured it would look like things were heating up to an outsider. In reality, the back of the hand he'd slipped around Spidey's waist made the regrettable acquaintance with a chewing gum which had been abandoned there. 

Yuck. 

Luckily, the thug apparently mistook the vigilante's indignation as moans of arousal and retreated quickly, yelling "Nothing to see there, just a couple of fags sucking face !" at his companions. Just to be safe, the blond continued his exploration of the wall-crawler's mouth.  
He could feel the man's chest rising in a rapid rhythm against his. He couldn't tell if the fast pace of his breathing came from the fear at being nearly found out, anger, or simply the fact that the vigilante didn't know how to fucking breathe while kissing. 

It was, quite frankly, the worst make-out session that Johnny had ever experienced. And that was counting his first one with Cathy Jeener, back when he was ten and innocent.  
At least, both of them had been awkwardly trying to brush their tongues against each other's in a manner that would feel good ; Spider-Man was still refusing to move his. Johnny was sure that this heathen even had his eyes wide open under that wretched piece of cloth. What the heck, how could he be such a disaster at this ? 

After was felt like hours but had probably been only a few seconds, the noises from the street dissipated and the blond was able to pull back, wiping the thread of saliva still linking their lips from his mouth. Gosh, he was so relieved that this was over. This kind of plans went far smoother (and hotter) in spy movies. Johnny felt lied to.

Spider-Man was gaping at him like he had just burned a class of kindergarten children in front of him while cackling maniacally. 

"Wow, you're so bad at this," Johnny observed objectively and eloquently. 

"You... you..." the vigilante sputtered. 

The blond raised his hands in a defensive gesture. "Hey, you can't say it didn't work ! They're off our backs !"

Spider-Man also raised his hands.  
To strangle him.

"YOU STOLE MY FIRST KISS YOU FUCKING BASTARD !"

  


Oh.

 _Oh_. 

Well that explained a lot. And also raised a lot of questions. Johnny's stomach first got warm and tingly, and then it suddenly lurched as an horrifying realization dawned on him. 

"Oh no. You must be so ugly. I can't believe I kissed an ugly dude," he said around the fingers squeezing his throat in a death grip. Spidey started to shake him.

"Shut UP ! SHUT UP ! You fucking... you... I was saving it for someone I like ! It has nothing to do with my looks, you dumb SHIT !"

"Well, if you've never dated anyone, it miiiiight mean that you're physically repulsive. No offense." He grabbed the vigilante's wrists to try and pull his hands away from his throat. He was unsuccessful. Right. Super strength. 

"It doesn't ! I'm just- young !"

"Now you're making up very weak excuses. I'm younger than you," Johnny pointed out in a raspy voice. Was that how he was going to die ? Choked to death in a dirty alley by Spider-Man ? 

"NO YOU'RE NOT !"

The blond's heart nearly jumped out of his ribcage. He stared at the vigilante, who mercifully stopped tried to shake his brain out of his ears, let go of him brusquely and started to walk away. 

"Wait," Johnny blurted, going after him. He accidentally shot into a metallic trash lid in the process, sending it spiraling noisily on the dirty ground. "Spidey. Web-head. How old are you ? Spides ? Are you my age ? HEY, answer me ! Spider-Maaaaan-"

"Holy heck you're so annoying," Spider-Man (Spider-Teen !?) hissed. He'd toned down the vulgarity. Good sign.

"Come on, you can't say something like that and leave me hanging," the blond insisted. "You know, if you don't tell me your age, I'm just going to assume that you're twelve."

"Twelve !?"

"There are precocious twelve years old. They grow up so fast nowadays, you wouldn't believe. Fine, maybe fourteen. That still makes me an older brother figure to you."

"An older brother who just shoved his tongue down my throat ?"

"Point taken. I can be your older, more experienced, wiser pal, guiding you on your quest to adulthood..."

Spidey stopped stomping abruptly. Johnny nearly slammed into his back, side-stepped him and leaned over so he could watch the vigilante's jaw twitch a few times. 

"Oh my god. No. I'm sixteen, okay ? I'm your age." Then the wall-crawler pointed an accusing index at him, fuming. "Don't you dare share that information with anyone. For some reason people think that I'm in my twenties or even my thirties, and I intend to keep it that way."

Wow.

This was one of the greatest days of his life. 

"Okay," he accepted brightly. 

"Okay ?" Spider-Man repeated warily.

"Okay. I'll keep your secret."

He tacked on a wide smile for additional charming effect.  
It didn't work on the infamous web-slinger, who twisted away from him with a huff. The poor soul obviously couldn't handle his mind-blowing beauty. 

"THERE THEY ARE ! I KNEW I HEARD SCREAMING ! GUYS !" 

The yell took them both by surprise as they stepped out of their alley. The outlaw who had alerted his buddies looked like a deer caught in headlights, frozen in the middle on the street as he took in the sight of the improbable duo focused on him.  
He evidently hadn't planned that far ahead and instantly regretted drawing attention on himself. 

"Oh fuck, that's the Human Torch," he said.

Spidey had the time to kick him unconscious before they were swarmed by a dozen or so of mobsters.

 _Oh well. Might as well conduct the interrogation with fiery fists, now that the cover is blown_ , Johnny thought as he flamed on and Spider-Man started to send webs everywhere. 

  


* * *

  


Later on, that night, as Johnny laid in bed, eyes closed and ready to drift of to sleep, a foreign thought accompanied by a feeling of pride and giddiness stretched his lips into a triumphant grin. He turned on his back to stare at his bedroom ceiling. 

"Heh. I'm Spider-Man's first kiss."

 _Score_.

  
  



	2. As rule-breakers

"How can you even win when you're playing like this ?" Johnny whined.

"Seems like I'm just superior to you in every way," Peter answered smugly.

On screen, his character finally broke the Torch's avatar spine and smashed his face into his knee in the most gruesome way possible. The gloomy voice annunciating "fatality" sounded particularly sweet to Peter's ears, but it was the blond's groan that made his day. He allowed himself a cheeky smile as he reached down to take a handful of pop-corn from the bowl placed on the floor below his head, kicking his legs up from their comfortable resting place on the back of the Torch's couch. A bit of pop-corn dust fell on the folds of his rolled-up mask, thankfully stopping them from entering his nostrils. 

"Oh my god, stop that," Johnny despaired. "You're getting pop corn everywhere. You're getting grease on my controller !"

"Why did you get us pop corn if you didn't want me to eat it then ?"

"...because."

"You're just prissy because you lost," Peter accused. 

"Whatever," Johnny huffed, but the playful twinge in his eyes told Peter that he was not actually that pissed. "At least stop stuffing your mouth upside-down, it's messy."

  


Ever since the blond had learned about Peter's age, he had seemed intent on getting to know him better. The first few weeks following the... Evening-That-Shall-Not-Be-Thought-About, his attempts at friendliness had been met with a cold attitude, especially when the idiot tried to get physically close. After a few times of Peter batting his hands away (and one memorable instance when he slapped him because he had leaned in too close to his face and Peter kind of freaked out), he had finally seemed to understand that Peter was protective of his personal space and stopped trying to invade it which had marginally eased their interactions. Then, when Johnny had started to bribe him with video games, well... let's just say that he wasn't the type of person who looked a gift horse in the mouth. He didn't have the money to collect game consoles, he rarely got the occasion to play. 

  


So he had let the Human Torch sneak him into the Baxter Building through his bedroom window. They had figured that the rest of the Fantastic Four wouldn't appreciate Spider-Man's presence in their home and decided not to risk their ire. There was no point in getting out of Johnny's bedroom anyway, since his video games were there. This was only the third time that Peter came over in a few months period (the both of them were busy people, after all), but their system of sorts hadn't failed them yet. 

"Wanna change the game ?" Johnny asked.

Peter hummed.

"I don't know, beating the shit out of you is very entertaining..."

"So you _are_ an horrible being who relishes in violence. I should have known the Bugle was right about you."

"Fine, fine, let's switch to something else. Do you have Mario Kart ?"

The Torch, who had rose from his seat to sort through the collection of video games on the shelf next to his screen, turned to look at him judgmentally : "... on Xbox ?" 

"What, it could exist !" Peter protested.

"You lead a sad, sad life," the blond answered, shaking his head mournfully. "Lucky for you, I happen to own a GameCube."

A mix of incredulity and elation made Peter flip so he could sit on the couch right side up, hands on his knees as he leaned forward, nearly bouncing. "You're kidding."

"Nope," Johnny said with a huge smile. He produced the cubic console and its ridiculous amount of cables from seemingly nowhere and started to plug it on the TV screen. Peter was practically vibrating in his seat. 

After what felt like ages, the iconic purple blocs appeared on screen, playing a music that was basically Proust's madeleine to Peter's ears. 

A few rounds of nostalgia-inducing Mario Kart later, their conversation started shifting towards their hero life. 

"Hey, so, your powers," Johnny said nonchalantly

"What about them ?" He had to aim this green turtle shell carefully. 

"You've got a healing factor, right ?"

The question made him pause ; the first image that came to his mind was that scene in Tokyo Ghoul where the protagonist, Kaneki, was being tortured endlessly as his body grew back his toes only for them to be tore off again and again by some psychopath ghoul, bone and blood covering the black and white pages. His turtleshell missed the NPC-Yoshi in front of him. 

"I mean... yes, I guess. I heal faster than before, but it's not that... noticeable."

"Really ? How powerful is it ?"

"Well a bruise usually takes only one night instead of a week or two to disappear, but I doubt I could regrow a finger if it was cut off, for instance."

"That's so awesome."

"Yeah." Probably the only reason he survived for so long, too.

"Does it work with substances too ? Like drugs and stuff ?"

"Mmh," Peter nodded. By now the race was over and both boys were ignoring the screen in favor of talking. "Some robbers tried to use a gas on me once, and it took far longer than they expected before I began to feel a bit dizzy. I think it was supposed to make me faint in a few seconds."

"Oh my god. You've got extra-resistance to everything. You're totally a human cockroach."

"I have _spider_ powers, you moron."

"Dude." Johnny sounded awed, and also like a guy who was about to make an extremely dumb suggestion. "Can you even get drunk ?"

Peter stared. "I... don't think so ? I don't know. I never tried."

"Dude you totally should. Run some tests. For science."

"I..."

"It's for _science_ , Spidey."

* * *

  


A few minutes later, a triumphant blond brandished three bottles of alcohol (and one of apple juice ?) in front of a bemused -and yet kind of giddy- Peter Parker.

"Ta-dam ! _Operation : Acquire Forbidden Goods From The Kitchen_ is a success ! I didn't even have to sneak around, I think that the others are in the lab or something." 

"You don't think they'll notice ?"

Johnny shrugged as he put the bottles on the table and took out an opener to start to work on the rum bottle.

"Maybe so, but not before a few days, so they won't know it was me. Usually they only take out the whiskey when we have guests over anyway."

Peter started picking at the seam of his mask in a nervous gesture, feeling a restless energy take over him as the blond filled one glass halfway with alcohol and poured some apple juice into it before handing it to him. Peter frowned at the smell coming from the beverage, the sweet and acidic tones of the fruit nearly drowned out under the vapors of the rhum. 

"Are you sure this is the way it's drunk ?"

"Yeah, duh. You really should go to more parties."

He raised the glass to his lips and hesitated.

"This is so illegal."

"Your life is illegal," Johnny pointed out. Which was true, but still. The Torch must have sensed he wasn't convinced, because he too poured himself a glass and clinked it against Peter's. "Cheers !"

Oh well. He squashed down the thought that his Aunt and Uncle would disapprove, tilted his head back and let the burning liquid pour down his throat. He had to live a little, right ? That was what people his age did. And he felt like someone his own age around Johnny.

He didn't like it, but he still forced himself to drink another glass because, according to the blond, even a lightweight wouldn't get drunk with what he'd had. Then he tried a small dose of whiskey, which was even worse, but he still downed it in one go to get it over with ("that's the pretentious old farts' drink", Johnny explained, and it made sense because it was the villains' favorite alcohol, from Peter's personal experience. "that's why Reed likes it so much"). Then he tried out the wine.  
The wine tasted like dirt, but at least it didn't feel like his insides had been set on fire, so he finished that glass, too.

  


* * *

  


The room was spinning.

"Guess that means you can get drunk."

"I have made a mistake," Peter blurted out, and then giggled.

He tried to rub his eyes but his forearm just brushed against his lenses instead. He giggled again. Oh wow, Johnny was smiling at him. He was laughing too, and maybe he was mocking him because that's what people usually did but Peter weirdly didn't care. At all. Oh man. Maybe drinking a mix of that hadn't been such a good idea. Scratch that, it was the best idea _ever_ ; he felt great, and carefree, and all around _good_ , like the world was giving him a hug and rocking him to soothe him and the Torch's voice was his lullaby. Oh, that's why the floor was moving under his body ; because Peter was his baby. Earth's child. 

His head was heavy, but he forced it to move so he could look at the blond on his left. 

"Hey, Torchy. Lullaby." He lifted an arm that felt like lead to poke at the other's cheek. "C'mon." Woops, one of his gloved finger nearly went into Johnny's nostril. That made Peter giggle. A lot. "S-s-sorry," he apologized between two shaky breaths. 

"I can't even understand what you're babbling about," Torchy's voice said over the light buzzing in his ears. "You calling me a lullaby ?"

Peter hummed. He couldn't remember how to formulate a sentence to explain that he wanted Johnny to sing. Structure was a foreign, stupid concept. 

"You're awfully tactile when you're plastered," the blond carried on. "And nicer. It' almost like you're usually trying to cover up something else..."

"'am not," Peter contradicted petulantly, pouting. He totally wasn't hiding how much of a dork he was.

He found himself staring right at Johnny as the latter leaned over him, a cocky twist to his lips. His face was all fuzzy fuzzy, and the only sign that he had absorbed any alcohol was the rosy tint of his cheeks. The jerk held his alcohol much better. Peter huffed. Oh wait; maybe it was because he hadn't drunk as much ? Ah man who cared. An absurd statement broke through his thoughts. 

"Admit it. You're attracted to me"

Peter immediately burst out laughing. Oh, oh, this was _gold_. He couldn't breathe anymore. He could hear himself snorting ungracefully twice among his laughter. Who knew the Human Torch had such a sense of humor ? This was so legit, the best really.  
Then he got a glimpse of Johnny's offended expression and his snickers died down. Wait. So he was serious ? _Peter_ should be the offended one !

"Urgh, no -hah !- you... you aren't attractive. You radiate _jock energy_ " (he spit those words out like poison and blew a raspberry to emphasize his point, waving his hand around and nearly smacking the FF member's face). "It repulses me. 'cause like... you know Torchy... that's why we can't get along. It's because you're too jock. It triggers my nerd. Natural enemies. Disgust and revulsion. You... you're showing off your party knowledge to me with your alcohol n' stuff. You're Flash levels of jock." 

He could have gone on longer, probably, he was almost sure, but Johnny interrupted his rambling. 

"I'm not a flashy jock," he protested. It was false, a bold lie right in front of him, live. And it was also funny that he made Flash an adjective. Peter scoffed, then he slurred :

"You have muscles and you favorite pastime is _sport cars_. And you're popular; so jock." 

It was an infallible argument and he hoped Johnny thought so, too. 

"Reed has muscles and popularity too," the blond whined right in his ear. OUch. "You can't categorize someone as a jock just because of that !"

"Cars and girls. Caaaaaars."

"Okay, okay, fine ! I'm a jock then !" He'd relented pretty quickly. Odd. "But I have to say : being a nerd isn't considered a dorky-cute thing anymore. You guys are back to being cringy now. I'd rather be a jock than a nerd, lemme tell you." Less odd.

"See," Peter deadpanned. "Bullying, here, performed by you." He poked Johnny in the cheek once again. Good aim, Spider-Man. 

"Oh wow. You're so lucky that I'm a good enough person to not record you right now."

Peter drew a blank. It took some time for his braincells to analyze and process the words. "zzz'at a threat ?"

"It's not, oh my god ! You're so paranoid !"

"'s not paranoia if the whole world really is against you," he advised wisely, nodding to himself. The back of his head rubbed uncomfortably against the carpet. 

"Riiiiight."

"You're unconvinced."

"I am."

"Haven't you read the papers ? Listenet- listened to the news ?"

"Well, that's not the whole world."

"How so ?"

"Well for starters, you're here aren't you ?"

Peter ceased his poking, leaving his finger dug into the other's face. "I am," he muttered. But before he could dwell further on this incredible revelation, a noise made him tense up.

There were footsteps in the corridor, coming towards them. He jerked up in a sitting position and his world spun. 

"Someone's coming," he said. 

Johnny backed away from the agitated vigilante, an eyebrow raised. "Uh... is this a paranoid episode, or ...?"

"Someone's coming !" he repeated. "Hurry, hide this, hide this !" he hissed as he rolled the empty bottles in the Human Torch's direction. The blond put them swiftly under his bed, which was unfortunately far too low for Peter to hide under.

He barely got the time to jump on the ceiling to huddle up into the corner of the room closest to the door (only just holding back the urge to throw up as he did so) before Mrs Storm flew it open immediately after knocking. Which. What was the point of knocking if she didn't even wait for her brother's answer before coming in ?  
Thankfully, she stayed in the doorframe, and therefore couldn't see Spider-Man trying to press himself into a fusion with the building on the other side of the door. He tried not to breathe too loudly. If his heart could stop pounding against his chest, it would be helpful, too. His stomach could stop the somersaults also. Would be nice.

"Hey, I just wanted to tell you to prepare for tonight, we'll get on the Quinjet right after dinner. Reed is still fixing up a few things in the lab, but everything should be ready in a few hours."

Johnny, who was standing in the middle of the room and gaping like an idiot (luckily staring at his sister and _not_ drawing attention with glances to the boy who had hands on the ceiling and feet against the wall) got enough of his senses back to answer. Peter was suddenly thankful for his apparent resistance to alcohol. 

"Oh. Okay, yeah, no problem."

There was an uncomfortable pause. Peter swore he could feel the woman's tension rising as she stayed in her spot, despite not being able to see anything else than the top of her head from his perch. Was she searching her brother's face, who currently looked like a kid with his hand caught in the jar ? Or had her eyes fallen on the incriminating amount of controllers and junk food on the table ? Could she also smell the alcohol in the room, or were super-senses necessary for this ? He heard her sniff. Oh no. Oh heck. Holy dang. 

"Who else is there ?" her voice asked.

"No one," Johnny lied. 

That was apparently the wrong thing to say. Peter watched helplessly as she marched into the bedroom with determination and walked to the closet, opening its doors wide only to find it filled to the brim with clothes and mischievous items.

"Hey !" the Torch protested. "Don't look into my stuff !"

That was Peter's chance. Mrs Storm's back was facing the bedroom door. He inched slowly and silently towards it. If he could get out of the room to hide for a few minutes and then come back to get out the window...

"I know there is someone else here, and the fact that you're hiding them is clearly a bad sign, Joh-"

Her voice caught in her throat when she turned to speak to her brother and found herself facing Spider-Man crawling very visibly on the ceiling. Peter's own eyes widened as if in response to hers as shock twisted her face, soon to be replaced by a cold anger that made his spidey senses tingle. As if the situation couldn't get more messy, he heard steps so heavy that they could only belong to the Thing coming from outside.

Peter reacted too late. With a forcefield, his way out was slammed close.

"You. Get down," the Invisible Woman hissed through clenched teeth.

"Sue !" Johnny yelped. "Calm down !"

" _Calm down ?_ Do you think I'm an idiot ? I can tell you've had- !"

Rocky knuckles rapped on the door. Peter was still frozen on the spot. "Sue ? Pipsqueak ? 'there a problem ?"

"Spider-Man got in, Ben," Sue yelled back. "He got Johnny drunk !" The Thing (Peter couldn't remember his last name and couldn't bring himself to call him by his first name, even in the privacy of his mind ; especially in the privacy of his mind) was apparently too taken aback to answer immediately. Johnny didn't have the same qualms. 

"Gosh, you make it sound like he broke in ! I invited him, Sue !"

Peter's brain wires suddenly decided to reconnect.

"HE'S THE ONE WHO DRUNK ME !" he shrieked.

Now that he said it it's didn't exactly sound right. Everyone kind of stopped moving and looked confused. Peter could relate. Johnny's attempt to disguise a facepalm as a casual stroke of his jaw did not fool anyone.

"I mean... I'm sure what he wanted to say is that I'm the one who insisted for us to have a drink or two... Just so we could test it out..." 

"I don't _care_ , Johnny," Mrs Storm snapped. She was still fixated on Peter. That was so not good.

"Let me in," grunted the Thing lowly. 

Terrifyingly, the blond woman did so. After the door was closed once again, Peter thought fleetingly and belatedly that he could have used this opportunity to run, because the window looked very force-fieldy right now. If only the Thing's shoulders didn't take up the whole space. He realized with a certain amount of puzzlement that he had pressed himself back into his corner. Oh well. Instincts.

Electric blue eyes met the whites lenses of the Spider-Man mask. The Thing raised his hand as if to catch his ankle and Peter crawled hastily upward, his back to the ceiling so he could face his opponents.

"Down you get, Bug-Man," the Thing growled.

"No thanks. Weather's good up there," Peter babbled.

He would never admit it, but the situation made him kind of nervous. Usually, he would have thrown some quips and fists and already gotten out ; but he did not want to antagonize his kind-of-only-friend(-but-don't-tell-anyone)'s family. Unfortunately his sole presence was apparently enough to achieve that. Not to mention the whole drunkenness thing, which made his surroundings hazy and -as he noticed now that he was trying to be fast- slowed him down considerably. 

Whoever declared that Peter's life didn't suck intensely was a dirty liar. 

"It's none of your business who I hang out with !" Johnny continued to argue with the Invisible Woman (bless him). 

"Yeah ? m' not too happy 'bout ya hanging out with a murderer, either."

Peter reeled back at the accusation. Captain Stacy's death was still painfully fresh in his mind ; the way he had thought himself so smart, making Doc Ock lose control of his own metal limbs, blind to the danger it would represent to innocent bystanders. The fact that it had cost the life of one of his very few public supporters only underlined Peter's arrogant stupidity. 

"Ya do realize what's the city's most popular headline right now, right ? 'Squash the Spider', huh ? Doesn't seem like a bad idea at the moment."

Johnny let out a groan. 

"Ben, are you serious ? You don't believe that he really killed that police officer, come on !"

"Well I don't see any reason not to believe it, either."

"Ben is not wrong, Johnny. Unless you have one ?" Mrs Storm enquired quietly. "Spider-Man ? Would you explain yourself ?"

"He doesn't have to ! The Bugle has been on his ass since the beginning, blaming him for everything ! This is no different !"

"I... um... I..." 

The three members of the FF lifted their heads to look at him expectantly. Peter fell silent. He looked at Johnny, trusting and indignant on his behalf ; at his sister, standing in what he only now noticed was a protective manner between him and the Torch ; and the man with a skin of rocks, ready to pummel him if he dared to attempt a wrong move. 

"It was an accident," he ended up murmuring. "My fault."

There was a short silence, and then Johnny said :

"See ? He didn't murder anyone. He's cool."

"That wasn't an explanation," the Thing protested. "Ye'r just ready to accept anythin' he tells ya because ye'r sweet on him."

"That's not !--"

"Enough," Sue cut them off. "Spider-Man, please get down so we can discuss this. Like adults."

Peter had always been more receptive to a feminine authority than a masculine one ; he obeyed, trusting his spidey senses to warn him if he were in actual danger. 

"No matter what you did or didn't do, you have no right to come into my little brother's bedroom without checking if it's okay with his family. You're not only intruding on our home -yes, our home Johnny, you do not live on your own here- but you're also pushing a teenager to keep secrets from his guardians. If he says that he's the one who wanted you two to drink -fine, I believe him. But it was your responsibility to refuse such a thing to an underage boy. You do realize how bad this makes you look, right ?"

Peter guessed she had a point. Aunt May would probably not have appreciated finding someone she thought to be at least twenty-five in her nephew's bedroom without any warning, especially an intoxicated one. Then again, Peter had no friends to bring home, and they never had the opportunity to discuss teenage drinking, so he couldn't be so sure. Maybe she would have been overjoyed instead, no matter the surprise guest's age, as long as her nephew had fun. She was a cool hippie like that.  
Or maybe not, all things considered. But Johnny was nearly seventeen, and he was a hero ; he wasn't a kid anymore and he could make his own decisions. 

"Yeah," he muttered instead of sharing his musings. He was vaguely aware that he was swaying slightly on the spot. "Sorry."

"He didn't push me to do anything," the Torch said with visible exasperation. "I'm the one who told him to come over."

"And you're also the one who told him not to say anything to your sister ?" she asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Well. That was more of a mutual agreement," the blond boy conceded. 

"Johnny..."

"What ? I knew you'd refuse if I asked permission !"

"Yeah, 'cause he's not trustworthy, ya dumb kid. For god's sake, ya know nothin' about him !"

"I know he is a hero."

"Oh, is he now ? 'cause you seem to be the only one to think so..."

"And I know I'm right ! We teamed up a few times ! You know that ! I don't get why you're both making such a huge deal out of this ! There is no difference between us meeting up in my room or in the city !"

"There is when you guys take the opportunity to steal alcohol from the cabinet ! Look at him, he's plastered !" the Thing barely missed smashing Peter's head right off his neck as he gestured at his lethargic body. "Yer damn lucky that it makes him useless instead of angry and violent, ya dumb brat ! Did ya even think this through !?"

"And I fail to see why a grown man would choose a teenager as his ideal fighting partner," Sue interjected, staring him down. Her brother adopted a pinched expression, but he said nothing, staying true to his promise of keeping Spider-Man's age to himself. Despite the more than uncomfortable situation, Peter was thankful. 

"Listen," he began, managing to gather his thoughts. He suspected that either the stress or his super-metabolism had started to take care of his intoxicated state. "Flamebrain here can fly, and I can websling. We can move at the same pace, so we're compatible fight-wise. I mean, when he doesn't get in my way," he added, which earned him one of Johnny's offended huffs.

"And that compatibility drove you to his bedroom ?"

Peter chose to ignore Johnny's groan of _"Jesus, that sounds so wrong"_ to answer in a deadpan voice : "There is no age to play video games." 

"Even so..." the woman started.

"Look, Sue," the Torch interrupted. "We just wanted to see how a lot of alcohol would affect him, considering that he's a mutant, or enhanced or whatever. And okay, we shouldn't have, we were wrong, blah blah blah. But I can have whoever I want over. I'm not twelve anymore. He is my _friend_."

Peter tried and failed to not feel touched by his words. It was the first time that any of them acknowledged out loud that they were buds.  
The Invisible Woman's stern glare softened a fraction. It dawned on Peter that even with his mask on, his body language must have been sufficient for her to pick up on the way he had perked up when Johnny defended their friendship. 

The Thing threw his hands up in the air in frustration.

"This kid's deaf to reason. Whatever. Just don't come crying to us if he turns out to be a ruthless criminal," he declared while walking out of the room. 

"You said 'if' !" Johnny yelled after him. "That means you're not convinced he is !"

The Thing just waved his comment away before closing the door behind him. Mrs Storm stared after him for a moment, contemplative, before she made a sweeping gesture with her hand towards the force-field and freed the window. 

"Can you leave, Spider-Man ?" Despite the harsh words, her tone was polite. Peter admired her polished social skills ; people usually mistook his own attempts at communication as insolence (okay, they might have been sometimes, but not _always_ ). "I need to talk to my brother privately," she added.

"Hum, yeah, yeah, no probs," he answered. He couldn't believe his luck ; a few seconds ago he had thought he was in for some clobberin' time. Was he really going to get away just like that ?

"Wait," Johnny said. "Isn't this, like, drunk-driving ? You can't sling yourself from building to building in your state !"

Peter waved his hand in a uncaring gesture.

"Nah, I'll be fine."

"How do you know !? You've never done it before !"

He stilled with one of his knees already on the windowsill and turned towards his friend (!). 

"I may not have, but," he stated. 

There was a moment of silence. The Storm siblings were looking at him, expectant. Peter nodded.

"Ciao."

He was out of the window before he could distinguish the meaning of Johnny's yells. 

  


* * *

  


A few days later, Peter joined Johnny on the Statue of Liberty after seeing one of his flaming messages in the sky. As he landed on the torch, he noted that Flamebrain had thoughtlessly neglected to bring some food to welcome Peter. In the absence of helicopters passing by, he had been forced to make himself a freaking web raft to get there, for God's sake, and that was how he was received ? Talk about a lack of manners. 

"Got home safely the other night ?" Johnny asked, straight to the point.

"Yeah," Peter lied.

A few pigeons had died on that evening. It was lucky that Aunt May had been on a week-end in Florida with Mrs Watson, or she surely would have questioned the bloody feathers all over her carpet. Instead, Peter had frantically vacuumed them until the house looked spotless again upon their discovery after he'd groggily slipped on one of them the next morning. 

"I didn't even get a hangover," he tacked on to even his karma out. Turned out that his Spider powers had more advantages than he had initially assumed.

"Well, at least now you know your limits," the blond sighed. He looked glum.

"Did you get into a lot of trouble ?" Peter asked, suddenly feeling a bit shameful. He had been so busy checking the news and social media to make sure that no one had recorded his sloppy intoxicated web-slinging and its avian casualties that he had not even thought of the consequences his friend must have suffered for their shit-facing evening. "I haven't seen you in the City for a while."

"No, that's just because we weren't Earth-bound," Johnny winked. "Sue scolded me a bit about the alcohol, but since I wasn't even that tipsy she just told me to be careful. Of drinking and of yourself both. Honestly, they tried to intimidate to you just in case, but I don't think they believe what the papers say, even Ben. Though they were pissed as hell that you came in without authorization and got so drunk when you were with me. So I guess that next time, we'll have to warn them you're here and stay sober."

"Man, really ? You're sure they'll let us have a next time ?" Peter was certain that he would have been grounded for life if May (or Ben, for that matter) had discovered that he'd been drinking, even if it was just to find out what it would feel like. 

"Yeah ? Oh right, I forgot to tell you. You're invited to come have dinner with us whenever you can."

"What."

"Mmh. Basically, I made a few speeches about how we were such good pals and stuff, and now they want to get to know you to make sure that I'm not blinded by your bad boy vibes or whatever."

No one, in the sixteen years of his life, had ever accused Peter of giving off 'bad boy vibes.' His mind was blown and he was not sure he would ever recover. Then, his brain processed that he was invited to the Baxter Building, to have dinner with scientists heroes Reed Richards and Sue Storm, and he went into cardiac arrest. He must have, because the white noise in his ears sounded like the line going flat in medical TV shows. 

And all of that because of Johnny's talent as an orator ? What had his life turned into ?

  


"I changed my mind. You are more of a theater kid."

Johnny tilted his head, a confused frown on his face.

Peter smiled underneath his mask. "That's not so bad."

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Halfway through writing this chapter I realized that its plot was similar to a scene in aloneintherain's wonderful fanfic, Always Glad You Came. I hope it's still different enough ?  
> (by the way aloneintherain is one of my fav Marvel writers, if you haven't read their fics go for it no matter what your favorite pairings are).
> 
> Kudos are great, huge thanks to the readers who left them, it made me very happy. ❤  
> Feedback is still welcome ;D
> 
> Until next time~


	3. As reluctant guests

There were a lot of things that Peter Parker disliked about working at the Daily Bugle (mainly, J. Jonah Jameson), but the main advantages were that it allowed him to a) work when he felt like it, as a freelancer, and b) use his life-consuming Spider-Man activities for money profit, instead of losing all of his savings to them. His deal with dear old JJJ also included a "no questions asked" clause about the way he managed to get his close-up photos that no other newspapers would be satisfied with. (Peter knew, he'd tried.)

Of course, it could be argued that the fact that he contributed to his own bad publicity by providing pictures that would be twisted to fit the Bugle's narrative far outweighed the monetary gain, but well. Peter couldn't exactly afford to pass up on easy money, as a student. Harry('s father) may pay for the rent of their shared flat, but college books as well as his living expenses were still high in NYC. Not to mention that he had to save up in case his repeated absences in class made his grant vanish into thin polluted air. Furthermore, Aunt May's old age and poor health also meant that she needed daily meds.

This was also why he made a point to accept all of JJJ's rare requests to cover certain non spidey-related events, even unpleasant ones.

If there was one person who hated Spider-Man and everything he represented more than Jameson, it was probably Sam Bullit, a candidate for the office of New York's District Attorney. Rather, no one who used the fear and resentment aimed at Spider-Man as an essential tool for his 'law and order' campaign so well.

Bullit had carved himself a place that stank of rotten, corrupted politics in New York high society, but Jameson did not care much about what shady means the man had employed to get there, as he was his best shot at rounding up the whole city against Spider-Man and setting the NYPD against him. He had even offered the Daily Bugle's support for his campaign, much to (sensible) head redactor Joe Robertson's disapproval.

Peter did not know what he had done to make Jameson hate his alter ego so much -to the point of blinding himself to malfeasance he would usually have gladly exposed in his paper- but here he was by his boss' side, in charge of photographing the fundraising for Bullit's campaign.

The place was swarmed by women in sparkling dresses and shoes that cost probably more than Peter yearly earnings and men in suits that made his own look like it belonged in the trash, despite its 'good as new' state (as it was only two years old). When he had graduated high school, Aunt May had rightfully deemed more important for him to have good-looking formal wear than a traditional watch.

Coming back to Jameson, the publicist was currently puffing his chest next to Peter as he glanced around the room, probably searching for the best people to suck up to. A waiter passing by offered him a cup of champagne, which he took with a polite (hypocritical, in Peter's opinion) half-rise of the corner of his lips (the best he could achieve in replacement of a smile for someone under his own social standing). The waiter glanced at Peter up and down and then carried on his way. The photographer wondered if he hadn't bothered to offer him a drink because of his working-class aura or because of the last few remnants of baby fat clinging stubbornly to his cheeks.

"Well, Parker," said Jameson gruffly. "I'll leave you to your job ; you'd better behave correctly, you do represent the Bugle after all ! And get me some good pictures, if it's not too much to ask !"

In his language, that meant that Peter had to stick not too far from JJ and make sure to photography him getting along fabulously with celebrities. He held back a roll of his eyes and acquiesced : "With pleasure, Mr. Jameson."

But his boss wasn't listening to him anymore, already on his way towards the Mayor of New York and his wife. Peter took a photo of their handshake. He tailed him for a seemingly unending hour before taking a break when he got near the buffet. Was it too early to help himself to some of the weird bits of rich people food ? Glancing around, he saw that some of the guests already had appetizers in their hands as they chatted. It would probably be fine, then. Peter randomly picked a toast with some kind of pink cream on it and bit down, pleased by its salty taste and by the feeling of some nutrition finally going down to his stomach.

Sometimes he felt like he was constantly starving, with his super metabolism and his budget limitations. If he could have access to free food, he grabbed the opportunity and did not let go of it.  
  
He must have stayed far too long with food in his hands instead of his camera, because soon Jameson was in his face, interrupting his improvised feast.

"I don't pay you to stuff your face, Parker !" he hissed, grabbing Peter's shoulder. He then threw a smile at a brunet woman staring at them. "Why, hello, Mrs Prassy ! Lovely reception, isn't it ?"

Then, turning back to Peter to talk to him in a low voice :

"I don't care if you mingle or if you stay on the sidelines, go around, take pictures of the chandelier for all I care, but for god's sake use that camera of yours ! And make sure to be on the front lines for Bullit's speech !"

"Sure, I wouldn't miss it for anything in the world," Peter said with a straight face.

  
Jameson frowned deeply (Peter could never tell if he pulled such expressions because he picked on his sarcasm, or if it was just his usual murderous mood), then he slapped him a few times on the shoulder and went away, mumbling under his breath something that sounded like "a grown man now, shouldn't have to tell him what to do, young people these days..."

He was always such a delight.

Peter regretfully left the buffet side, serenading it internally all along as a promise of future reunion. He mournfully took a few portraits of the guests, which he then had to delete because he noticed that he had subconsciously focused his shot not on their faces but rather on the appetizers in their hands. A waiter nearly ran him over, so he moved next to the double doors opened on a corridor to avoid being in the way as he sorted quickly through his photographs.  
He tilted his head at the scenes displayed by his camera. One man was noticeably absent from them : Sam Bullit had not yet shown up at his own party. Wasn't a fundraiser made to schmooze to the right people ? He was supposed to entertain the guests, wasn't he ?

Peter glanced at the corridor by his side. It was wide, with high decorated walls. Nothing suspect here. It could lead to other interesting places, though.

  
The photographer walked into it with his head held high, as if he had a clear destination in his mind, and went on his merry way with even strides. If he was caught looking too sneaky for his own good, he could always pretend that he was searching for the bathroom, even though what he really was after was substantial proof of Bullit's dealings with the underworld. Jameson may have convinced himself that Bullit had no ties with criminals, but if he was confronted with actual proof, Peter was sure that he would retract his support and expose Bullit's corruption. He wasn't an unreasonable man, mostly, when Yours Truly wasn't concerned.

Peter was persuaded that the politician's sombre affairs ran far deeper than what one would expect from a public figure. Uncle Ben used to say that no man could reach a place of enormous power without having stomped on others, and Bullit's ascension had been lightning fast. Not to mention that, as Spider-Man, Peter had stopped a few of his men from killing off one of his rivals once.

The problem was that his word as a vigilante was worth shit. As an important newspapers' photographer, with some incriminating evidence on his camera, however...

The bathrooms entrances looked unnecessarily lavish, with their wooden and golden ornaments. There was one lady peeking in the male's one, who jumped when she heard Peter approach, glanced at him guiltily and went in the women's stall with a flustered look. The photographer stared after her, confused.

Okay, so that was weird.

He opened the men's bathroom, but there was absolutely no one in there and his spidey senses weren't going off, so that scratched out the option of a bomb. He checked under the sinks and in the two empty stalls but he couldn't spot anything suspicious there, either, so he went back out and continued his exploration of the corridor. After a corner that put him out of the view of bathroom-goers, the corridor led to an intersection that seemed to have been closed off for the occasion. Another two doors stood between the paintings on the walls. Peter tried the first one, but it didn't move from its hinges. Locked, then. He moved to the second one. It opened for a few millimeters before pulling in the other direction.

Peter blinked. He pulled back, but he was met with the same resistance. A small amount of extra strength was enough to make it give away, however, and he was met with a broom, a mop, and a familiar wide-eyed blond head.

"What..."

Johnny Storm shushed him, looking torn between infuriation and panic. From the direction Peter had come from, a faint feminine voice called "Johnny ?..." and Torchy grabbed photographer Peter Parker to pull him in the janitor's closet before slamming it back closed behind them. Only Peter's reflexes allowed him to wrap his arms around his camera to avoid it colliding against the back of the closet as he half stumbled against the superhero.

"What are you doing ?" he whisper-yelled.

"Shut up !" Johnny hissed in response. "You're gonna get me found out !"

"No one's coming," Peter answered impatiently. He had heard the high heels of the woman clicking back towards the ballroom. "What the hell are you doing here ? Don't tell me you support Bullit ?!" He refused to feel betrayed. He refused.

"What's it to you, Parker ? Don't you love sucking up to Spidey's haters, when you're not too busy stealing other people's girlfriends ? And for fuck's sake, lower your voice !"

Right. To Johnny, Peter Parker wasn't anyone else that the Bugle's photographer, interested only in selling unflattering photos of Spider-Man and flirting up his (former) girlfriend. For the record, he had been more interested in pissing off Johnny than dating Dorrie, at the time. What could he say ? It was before he and the Torch befriended each other as valuable teammates. Of course, Johnny had missed the part where Peter and Spider-Man were one and the same and still considered Peter as an asshole.

Still. Bullit ?

  
"So what ? 'Law and Order' is the FF's new motto, now ?" he spat out slightly bitterly. Just slightly. He'd thought that the other members of the Fantastic Four had accepted him, too ; they were always nice to him, contrary to most of the New York populace (including other supers).

  
Johnny, who had been pressing his ear against the closet door and seemingly holding his breath, finally turned towards Peter.

  
"Don't be ridiculous," he said. "My date dragged me there."

"Wow. What a date."

"Yeah, well. That's her I'm trying to avoid. How was I supposed to know she had shit political opinions ?"

"Hum, maybe if you dated people you knew instead of the first pretty face you meet, this wouldn't happen ?" Peter suggested.

  
He figured that was not a good thing to say when he saw how offended the blond looked, none of the humor usually present in their banter softening the twist of his mouth as he scowled.

  
"Shut up, Parker."

  
An uncomfortable silence took over the closet. Peter shifted slightly.

  
"Well, I'm going out, then."

"It only opens from the outside."

"What ?"

"I slammed it. It's closed, not locked, but there is no handle inside. We have to wait for someone else to open it."

  
Peter stared at him. Stared at the utter idiot, the complete imbecile he considered one of his closest friends, the absolute moron who had locked them in an awkward tangle of limbs with no other way out than breaking down the door, all to hide from a bigoted girl. Which Peter could not use his inhuman strength to do, if he wanted to keep his secret identity intact.

  
"Don't give me that look, Parker," Johnny huffed. "It's not like you have somewhere important to be."

He raised his eyebrows so high that he thought they would merge with his hairline, bumping the blond's chin with his camera as he shoved it in his face. "Excuse-me ? Professional photographer on a job, here. I'm not the one who got smuggled in."

Johnny scoffed. "Oh, please. As if there were _anything_ professional about that daily piece of crap you work for."

Well, that was going a bit far. His colleagues were nice. And Spider issues aside, the Daily Bugle did publish good articles.

"First of all, I'm not responsible for what people write under my photos. Second, I'm a freelance worker, technically. Not a full-time employee. I could be here on behalf of another paper."

"Are you ?" Johnny asked, one eyebrow lifted.

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"You don't need to confirm, anyway. The Bugle has been showering Bullit with praise since the beginning of his campaign."

"Well, yeah," Peter admitted, "but I'm hoping that'll change soon. It might, actually."

"Really ? And why's that ?"

Torchy's tone was dismissive, as if showing interest in the conversation was below him. Gosh, Peter had forgotten how insufferable he could be with people he disliked.

"You never know what I could catch on this camera. The zoom-in function is pretty sick. And being a photographer for a newspapers is a bit like being a reporter, in some ways. The goal is to gather as much information as possible, to get to the truth..."

" 'The truth', he says," Johnny scoffed.

Peter felt a flare of irritation. "Yes, the truth, you dumb shit. That's what it's called when you catch politicians red-handed with the mafia."

This finally seemed to break Johnny out of his uppity asshole mode : "Bullit is affiliated with the mafia ?"

Peter blinked at him repeatedly. "Yeah ? You didn't know ?"

"No ! Why would I ?"

"It's kind of an open secret in the politics world, there is just no concrete proof. I thought you were aware since you seem to hate him so much."

The blond's face was blank. "Nah, I don't really follow politics. I just knew about his last campaign, that's it, since it's so public. Hearing the way he talks is sufficient to get a picture of his character, though. His bigotry is so fucking obvious, man. Populism at its worst."

"I didn't know you knew what populism means."

"Contrary to what your magazines pals like to say, I'm not stupid."

"Of course you aren't," Peter blurted.

  
Johnny did a slight double-take, taken aback, and he realized that he had sounded far too sincere and earnest for someone who was supposed to be a near-stranger. He coughed awkwardly and avoided Torchy's stare by directing his eyes to the corner of the closet. Oh look, a spiderweb, and with a spider on it, too. How amazing. Peter truly wondered how she had gotten here, and how long she'd been spinning her web. Did she have babies ?

  
"So... why pictures of Spider-Man ?"

  
Peter stopped following the process of the arachnid's lazy weaving -you go, girl- to turn his attention back to Johnny. "Mmh ?"

  
"It hasn't changed, right ? You're still the one who takes pictures of him. You always were. You've never switched subject ? Do you just... track him all day ?"

  
Peter shifted, uncomfortable. The closet was, frankly, far too small. His knee bumped against Johnny's, and now that he had let go of the camera to let it hang around his neck, his arms were stuck uselessly between both men's chests. Johnny kept moving his, trying to find a laid-back position and dreadfully failing.

  
"I didn't really chose him as a subject. It's more like he came to me as one."

"That sounds vaguely delusional and creepy."

"I meant that I saw an ad from the Bugle and they paid good money for it. I needed it, so I just went for it."

"But isn't it like a lot of effort and time for not a lot of earnings ?" Johnny pushed. "It can't be easy getting photos of him. I've seen the guy move. He's _fast_. And besides, his activities are unpredictable. _How_ do you even get these pics ?"

"I'm talented at what I do," Peter argued, but he knew it was weak. "And lucky."

"No," the blond said slowly. "This ain't right. There has to be something else. You'd have to know where he is going to be in advance, to find a good vantage point."

Peter's heart was beating hard against his ribcage. He hoped that Johnny's proximity did not mean that he could feel it.

"You thought about this a lot, huh," he said in a lame attempt to sound unconcerned. Torchy did not bite.

"So, you'd have to have a way to tail him, or better yet... to predict his movements. You'd have to know him intrinsically." Johnny's breath hitched. He looked at Peter with wide eyes, raising one arm to scratch mechanically at his own head. His elbow brushed Peter's cheekbone. "Are you..."

The photographer suddenly yelped in genuine concern : "Careful ! You nearly crushed that spider !"

Johnny immediately threw his hand over Peter's shoulder, twisting to look behind him and bonking his temple against the closet door. "Where ?" he screamed.

"Behind your head, stop moving so much ! You're gonna kill her ! Ow !"

" _Her ? HER ?_ " The blond was practically climbing his lap as he flailed, digging pointy limbs into Peter's ribs and vital organs.

"Oof ! Ge-doff, you dummy, now it's _me_ you're going to crush !"

 ** _"PARKER !_** _WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING ?_ "

  
He didn't know what was worse : the scream drilling into his eardrums, the sudden flash of light as the door was (finally, blissfully) thrown open, or J. Jonah Jameson's red face as the latter stared down the pair of young heroes tangled together in the janitor's closet. The publicist's expression went from rage to shock as he took in what was before his eyes. In record time, he gained back his (angry) composure and exclaimed between gritted teeth :

  
"I've been looking for you all over the place ! Bullit's speech is about to start, get a damn _move on_ !"

He waited with his fists on his hips as Peter managed to untangle himself from the blond and stagger out of the cramped space, shortly followed by the other (frantically brushing his clothes of as if to get rid of imaginary arachnids). Peter was about to walk to the ballroom, but JJ stopped him with a hand an inch from his chest. "And pull yourself together. I'm not showing up with a scruffy photographer, it'll look bad."

Next to them, Johnny hovered, as if he was considering waiting for him to finish adjusting his suit so they could continue their conversation, but then the blond seemed to change his mind and walked away. Jameson stared after him with an uncharacteristically somber look as he took the turn that led out of the building. Peter observed his boss curiously from the corner of his eye. JJ's mustache bristled as he turned back to Peter. "Well, Parker !? What are you waiting for ? To the ballroom, quick !"

* * *

Peter held back a sigh as he finally stepped out of the mansion and onto the boulevard. As expected, Bullit's speech had been full of hatred and bigotry barely concealed in the calculated wording addressed to his conniving audience. Peter had been both relieved and aggravated to see Jameson knitting his brows at certain parts of the speech -only to brighten again when the politician pronounced the magic words that were 'Spider-Man'. He was eager to get away from the crowd mingling on the sidewalk -who without any doubt approved of Bullit's ideas- as well as from his superior. He forced himself to say his goodbyes before going to the subway station, but Jameson stopped him, an unusually troubled air on his face.

  
"Wait, Parker. You're coming with me. We're taking a taxi."

  
Peter found himself mute for a moment. Jameson, that old scrooge, paying for his commute ? Voluntarily ? Had pigs started to fly ? (actually, that might have really happened at some point. New-York, man.)

"I'm sorry ?" he couldn't help but ask. His boss, amazingly, did not even scowl.

"Let's walk," he said instead. "There is too much traffic here, we'd get stuck for hours. We'll catch one in the 42nd Street."

A petty side of Peter wanted to tell him _no thank you, my work hours are done and I don't have to endure your company one second more,_ but a stronger part of himself wanted to figure out what the strange behavior of the cranky publicist was about. The latter had lit up a cigar and was munching on it as he gazed thoughtfully at the pavement in front of him, glancing at Peter every so often, not quite fitfully but still a clue of his internal agitation. Peter stayed silent, assuming that accidentally setting JJ off would divert him from what preoccupied him so. After a few minutes of walking side-by-side in prolonged silence, Jameson eventually spoke.

"Listen, Parker... You've been selling your photographs to me for a while, now. A few years, even. When you first came into our headquarters, you were what ? A junior ? A sophomore ?"

"Uh, a sophomore, sir," Peter answered, wondering where this was going. He wasn't aware that Jameson had given thought to the fact that he'd been in high school. It sounded a bit like the beginning of a promotion speech. Was he about to get a promotion ? That sounded too good to be true.

"Right, right," JJ said, distracted. "Fifteen years old..."

  
A few quiet steps. Only the two Bugle workers were strangely mute, the City bristling around them, from the cars passing them to the yellow streetlights buzzing and the people's brisk walk, noisy at this time of the night. Jameson let out what sounded like a heavy sigh through his nose.

  
"Parker. What you were doing with the Human Torch in that closet tonight... Is that the way you get all of your pictures ?"

  
Well Jameson was dumber than Peter thought ; there was no way he could have taken any of his photos stuck in a dark hiding place, especially in such proximity with the subject.  
Then the meaning of his boss' question hit Peter like a bus. For the first time since he got in a closet with Johnny, he pictured what they would have looked like from an outsider's perspective : ruffled, much closer to each other than necessary, apparently deliberately locking themselves together in search of privacy, away from indiscreet eyes...

Did Jameson think they were _having sex_ in there ?

And that he'd been doing it with his _alter ego_ to make his living ?

  
"Oh my god, no !" he protested, horrified.

Jameson did not look less tense. "I never asked any questions. This was our deal. If you wanted to spend your time tailing that menace, I considered it your problem. I'm of the opinion that kids shouldn't be sheltered ; learn responsibilities as soon as possible..."

  
Oh god. Was he trying to have some kind of... _parenting talk_ with him ? And worst of all, a responsibility speech ? This evening was descending further and further into madness.

He kept going. _He kept going_ , despite looking almost as uncomfortable as Peter with the conversation.

  
"...so I figured that it was none of my business how you achieved your job. Fifteen is old enough to take on risky tasks for a worthy cause, if you ask me, and you have this aunt of yours to support. It never crossed my mind that I could be enabling..."

  
Someone make him stop.

  
"...anything of that nature. The Daily Bugle has important ethics, Parker, and how you accomplish your work reflects on the newspaper as a whole. And most importantly, both as the Head of the Bugle and as a man, I can't condone a teenager, or even a young man, doing..."

  
He had to interrupt him NOW or he would need to bleach his brain to forget the sound of Jameson's voicing words that it shouldn't ever voice in Peter's presence and/or imagination.

  
"I didn't ! I swear, I didn't. The possibility never even crossed my mind. You have to believe me. I won't tell you how I take my photos, Mr. Jameson ; but I can tell you that it's not this way. I have my means, but I guarantee that... selling my body, or sleeping around, or- or whatever you're imagining, isn't part of them. I mean, the idea itself is just ludicrous ! And really, with _Spider-Man_ of all people ? It's ridiculous !"

"Right. Yes. Of course, of course. It was just an idea, but-- wrong, obviously. Excellent, then." Jameson cleared his throat roughly. He looked both awkward and relieved, quick to let go of doubts he'd had trouble entertaining in the first place. "Now, where is this damn cab ? Taxi !" he barked at the road, an excellent if brutal pretext to stare at the distance and close the conversation now that he had done what he deemed to be his duty (and probably to try to forget this embarrassing episode ever happened, as Peter would.)

It only later occurred to Peter, long after JJJ had dropped him off in front of his apartment, that he had never clarified to the older man that he hadn't been hooking up with Johnny Storm in the closet at Sam Bullit's fundraiser mansion.

He had to bury his face into his pillow to muffle a moan of frustration. Even out of the Spider-Man's costume, his best friend still managed to cause him trouble.  
Peter froze. Was Johnny his best friend ? Remembering the blond's scorn, a cold sensation grew into his chest and overtook his body, running into his veins to the tips of his fingers and toes like icy water.  
Maybe not.  
Harry was ; he was the best friend Peter Parker had made since... forever, actually, or at least ever since a time unremembered, before his parents' passing. Then again, Johnny wasn't the only one who ignored one half of Peter's life ; Harry could never learn about Spider-Man. Both the closest friends he had, and both kept away from him at an arm's distance. At least, contrary to Harry's growing bitterness at Peter's half-assed excuses for his repeated absences, Torchy didn't seem resentful of his keeping secrets, understanding the need to conceal his identity.

Well, until he'd find himself face-to-face with Peter Parker and sneer at him, that is.

Staring at his bedroom ceiling, he wondered whether it felt off to love him -like reaching to touch a mirage, only to be disappointed when your palms ended up covered in the mist behind it, unwanted.

Could he deem any of his relationships meaningful, when even the people dearest to him only knew half of himself ?


	4. As civilians and heroes

Johnny was ashamed to admit that he was fervently hiding behind his laptop.

  
Usually, discretion was not his style. First of all, because nothing about himself was meant to be discreet, be it his appearance, his powers or his personality.

(he hated being ignored, left behind, forgotten)

Second of all, because he would rather face his enemies upfront than avoid them. This usually included both villains and some of the civilians he was forced to cohabit with despite despising them.

And yet, here he was, ducking behind a computer screen so Peter Parker, drinking a coffee three tables over with the air of someone who had pulled an all-nighter, would continue to be ignorant of his presence.

The thing was, Parker was his age, hovered suspiciously on the fringe of superheroes society, and he reminded Johnny of everything he wished he had : a smarter brain -as showcased by his very brief internship with Reed-, a loving aunt happy to raise him, independency. And yet, with all of those privileges, Parker made the poor life choice of working for the Daily Bugle, who continuously trashed one of the people closest to Johnny. His existence made the blond very bitter, and even still he felt more inadequate than superior to the guy whenever he was in his presence.  
Also, the last time he had seen him, he had embarrassingly freaked out over a spider. So. He was not eager to talk to him again, even if the photographer could have (hopefully) forgotten the incident in the two months they had not seen each other.

There was also the matter of how he got Spidey's photos in the first place. The issue nagged at the back of Johnny's mind. While it wasn't in his Top 3 Mysteries to solve, it still troubled him. He had tried asking Spidey about Parker, but the vigilante had been evasive in his answers. From what he had gathered, Spider-Man obviously knew the guy, but he could not for the life of him determine the relationship between these two. Were they relatives ? It would make sense for Spidey to let the dude photograph him to help him out financially if they were cousins or something. But somehow, he doubted that the vigilante had an extended family. It may have been because his hero persona was a loner, as well as being a private person, but Johnny had always felt that Spidey did not have much people in his corner, even as a civilian. He had once confessed to him that no one knew his double identity, after all.

But then, who was Parker to him ? A very bad friend ? He couldn't be, if he was oblivious to Spider-Man's identity. Or was he ? Maybe he had blackmail on him. Johnny squinted at the photographer. He looked exhausted, almost sickly, with his dark rings under his eyes and his paleness. Being Jameson's minion was not ideal for relaxation, apparently. _Serves him right_ , Johnny thought viciously.

Eerily, Parker raised his head at that precise moment and met Johnny's peeking eyes. The brunet blinked. Johnny met his stare head on, chin jutted out as if to challenge him. He refused to duck back behind his screen ; he did have some dignity, after all. Parker's gaze shifted briefly to his coffee cup before he took it and stood up to make his way over Johnny's table, messenger bag slung over his shoulder.

"Do you mind ?" he asked. He sat down before Johnny could voice the fact that yes, he very much minded. "Working on something ?" he pointed to the blond's computer, his head cocked to the side in a strange way.

"Hum," Johnny said very articulately. He closed the tabs of multiple shopping websites. "That's... classified."

"Yeah ?" Parker's grin had a mocking tinge to it. The bastard was not fooled. Johnny closed his laptop and leaned back on his chair, arms crossed on his chest. "Yup."

"And you thought the Coffee Bean Café was the perfect place to do your ultra-secret hero business ?"

"It's called hiding in plain sight. No one would suspect it, right ?"

"Right," the photographer said doubtfully.

"Did you want anything in particular ?"

"Mmh ? No, just making conversation." Parker seemed hesitant, as though he really wanted to add something but didn't know if he ought to. Why the hell had he come to talk to him ? They had barely ever exchanged any words, jabs put aside. Unless he had a motive ...? An idea crossed Johnny's mind.

"Look, if you're trying to suck up to me so Reed will take you back as an intern, I want you to know that you're wasting your time. I won't vouch for you, and even if I did there is no way you'd be let into the building after what happened last time."

The photographer looked genuinely taken aback. "What ? That's not... I mean, I'm not trying to get an internship from you, Torch."

"Oh. What do you want, then ?"

"Nothing, I told you. I'm..."

But Parker did not get to finish his sentence ; at that moment what sounded like an explosion blew up in the street, the shockwave shaking the shop windows with a throbbing noise. Customers screamed, most of them instinctively covering their heads to protect themselves, whereas Parker chose to cover his ears with both his hands instead, wincing. A glass slid from the counter to break at its buyer's shoes. Johnny jumped up, eyes on the fleeing people in the street. An inhuman roar resonated.

"Shit ! Watch my stuff !" he yelled at Parker, who had already stood up. " _Flame on !_ "

He took to the skies as soon as he was outside to better evaluate the situation.

Some kind of spaceship had crashed in the middle of the road. Johnny suspected that it had come here at a speed sufficient to break the sound barrier, only to miscalculate its landing and destroy the pavement, exploding half of itself in the process. Unfortunately, the hostile presence abroad had apparently been spared by the crash, as the ten feet-high scaly aliens had gone on a rampage, destroying everything in their way.

Now, traveling through space and alternate dimensions, Johnny had learnt not to be too quick in his judgment. They couldn't deem an extra-terrestrial race as an enemy just because it was ugly or its behavior seemed cold. Cultural differences sometimes meant that a friendly gesture could pass off as aggressive to another specie.  
There was not much left to freedom of interpretation about the way this reptile-style alien was ripping off that man's arm with his jaw, though. Time to work, then.  
Johnny immediately sent a precise streak of fire to pierce through the alien's hip, which forced a pained roar out of them and freed their poor victim from their long pointy teeth. With a second blast, the creature collapsed and did not get back up. The hero quickly landed next to the man, whose arm was still thankfully attached to his body, but was bleeding far too much for him to be out of danger yet.

"Sir, I'm sorry but I have to carry you out of here."

The man did not respond. His eyes were glazed over as he let out heavy, pained pants ; Johnny wasn't even sure that he had heard him. Unfortunately there was no time for sweet bedside manners ; there were around twenty aliens in need of getting their asses kicked, and other people in need of rescue. With an impatient gesture, he trapped one more alien in a ring of fire to stop them from advancing on a woman running away. Then he picked the man up, careful not to jostle him more than necessary as he carried him up in the sky to bring him two blocks over, where he could find some assistance. He seized the opportunity of being shortly away from the fight to call his family through his comm.

"We're already on our way," Reed said before Johnny could explain anything.

"Oh, well. Hurry then. I can't fight and evacuate people at the same time."

"On it," Sue's voice answered.

He was ready for the sight of a disaster having unfolded in the few minutes it had taken him to get the injured man to safety, so he nearly flamed off in relief when he saw that one side of the street had been blocked by a wall of webs to prevent the aliens from spilling even further into the city. Looked like Spidey had taken a record time to get on the scene. It took Johnny barely a few seconds to spot the vigilante, as Spidey had sent an alien out of a clothes shop and right into a trio of seething reptile-people.

The blond hurried to the Spider's side ; even if he was strong, facing four ten feet-tall resilient aliens on his own was a little too much (especially considering that their brain-or-brawls balance seemed to tip in favor of the brawls).

"Hey Webs," he greeted as he punched an alien in the face with a flaming fist. "When did you get there ?"

"Right when you took off with the dude with an arm in shreds." He webbed the jaw of one enemy shut and twisted his body to kick another in the gut. "Is he alright ?"

"He's gonna be," grunted Johnny as he heated up his arm temperature to force an alien to let go of their hold on it. The reptile screamed and jerked away, earning themselves a satisfied smirk from the blond, shortly followed with a fireball.

"Everyone has either ran away or is locked inside the buildings," Spidey indicated. He high-kicked an alien who had been sneaking on Johnny from behind in the throat so hard that they collapsed brutally into unconsciousness. That was pretty sexy. "We have to contain those things in this street. Keep them away from the shop windows."

"Closing both sides of the street is too risky," Johnny countered. It would leave no way out for the civilians if their relatively safe hideouts were discovered.

"I know, but we can't let them get to the ESU !"

He had a point. "You think you can handle protecting the buildings on your own, if I go guard the end of the street ?"

Spidey huffed out a laugh as he back-flipped gracefully _(so unnecessary)_ over the alien with a webbed-shut jaw, placing his hands under his enemy's chin so he could use his momentum to force their head backward and slam it against the roof of a car. "Who do you take me for, Matchstick ?"

"A show-off ?" Johnny suggested as he downed the third alien with a final blast of fire.

"That's rich, coming for you !" yelled Spider-Man as he battled with the fourth invader, but the blond had already taken off.

The aliens were brainless enough to deal with their frustration by munching of diverse lifeless utilities such as car doors, fire hydrants (thus spilling powerful flows of water everywhere), street lamps and trees. Wait. Plants weren't lifeless. RIP trees.

They did not wear any pieces of clothing, either, nor any item of technology one would expect from a space-traveller. Not to mention that Johnny hadn't heard them talk. This raised the question of their intelligence, and most importantly how they had managed to drive and crash a ship onto Earth when they acted like actual reptiles -with rabies- and not civilized beings.

Well, that was a mystery for Reed to solve, when he'd actually get there. In the meantime, Johnny had giant biped iguanas to burn to a crisp.

* * *

He'd had to go further than the end of the street to neutralize an alien that had wandered off on their path of mass destruction. Only then had he been able to focus back on 'securing' the street -hoping that no reptile had slithered into the sewers, because if so he wasn't volunteering to go down there. He had put on a wall of fire behind him as he faced the aliens (figuring that he could always lower it down quickly if a civilian came barrelling toward him). It had acted more as a deterrent than a physical barrier, as Johnny needed all his concentration to attack the aliens, and making a wall of significant size would have required more power than he could spare.

Shortly thereafter came the three absentees members of the Fantastic Four in the Quinjet, who spread themselves among the battlefield to cover more ground. With their support, subduing the invaders had been a far less risky job, even if they were still outnumbered.

"I think I got the last one," Ben said through the comm. Johnny observed his surroundings, watching out for the slightest sign of life.

"Yeah, I can't see any non-scorched alien tails here," the Torch confirmed. "Reed ? Sue ?"

"We're done here," Reed's voice answered.

"Nice. Is Webs with any of you guys ?" Johnny started his walk to the Quinjet, taking his time so he could keep an ear out for reptilian growls or human whining.

"We fought together, but he's already gone, squirt."

Johnny was surprised by Ben's words.

"What ? You're sure ?"

"Yup. Webbed himself away as soon as we finished up. No wonder he's got bad press."

The blond frowned. He was disappointed by the vigilante's vanishing act. Granted, it wasn't an unusual behavior for him his earlier days, but it had been a few years since then, and the two friends had taken the habit to grab a bite after teaming up for a fight. Why would he go without even a goodbye ?

"Did he look hurt ?" It wouldn't be the first time that moron sought privacy to lick his wounds instead of letting his allies take care of him, after all.

"No more than scratches. What are we going to do with those things ?"

"We should leave them to SHIELD. I'm more interested in their ship," Reed answered.

"We should deal with the civilians first," Sue reminded. He could see her in the distance, carefully using her powers to expose possible shelters terrified New-Yorkers could have ducked into.

"Well, I'll leave you to it," Johnny said. "I just remembered that I have to go get my stuff back. I left it in a coffee place."

Ben snorted. "Avoiding clean-up duty as usual..."

"I can't see what you're talking about," the blond responded cheekily before cutting off his comm.

Going back to the coffee shop, he was pleased to see that it had been miraculously spared from the attack, customers having been sharp enough to hide beneath their tables instead of rushing out in the street like headless chickens. Most of them were now on their phones, either to check on their families and friends or on the news to know if it was safe to wander out yet, and most importantly whether public transportation in the sector would go on as normal or not. New-Yorkers had developed a sort of imperviousness to these kind of situations ; Johnny was almost proud. He basked in the music of murmuring voices for a minute, and then he noticed that his table was empty of his stuff as well as of Parker's presence.

He swore and ran back outside, flaming on so he could look at the streets from an high vantage point. Where had he gone ? Parker's wallflower quality made him fade in the background, so Johnny focused on searching for his very much noticeable bag (black with orange flames) rather than the plain as fuck man. The photographer _had_ to have taken it with him along with his computer. He would start his hunt from the surroundings of the Coffee Bean Café and then extend his perimeter. Parker could be anywhere, though ; he must have had the time to take the subway before the fight even ended. There was little hope to find him now ; therefore, Johnny was surprised to spot his awesome bag not three streets away from the coffee shop, next to a silhouette half-hidden behind a dumpster.

Johnny plunged right next to him and landed with a _swoosh_ as his flames disappeared. The silhouette was indeed Parker, who gave a start and twisted to face him, shock written all over his features, as the blond snatched his bag from the ground (relieved to feel the weight of his computer inside).

"Didn't take you for a thief, Park..."

He trailed off as he took in the scene before him.  
There was no mistaking the webs still sticking to his and Parker's bag, white silk clinging stubbornly to the black strap and onto Johnny's fingers, nor the red and black clothing peeking from the photographer's undone collar. The hero glanced down to Parker's feet, and sure enough, there were the iconic boots that had kicked an alien monster in the face not ten minutes ago. A speck of blood was still visible on them.

He looked back up to stare at Peter Parker's face. Peter Parker whose hair was still ruffled like crazy after taking off his Spider-Man mask, only partly stuffed in his jean pocket. Peter Parker who had rushed out the battlefield to change into his civvies behind a smelly dumpster. Peter Parker with guilt clear on his face -not because he had stolen Johnny's laptop, but because he had somehow managed to conceal his identity from him both in and out of the mask, a double lie where he'd thought there was only one secret.

Johnny's first instinct was denial. In fact, in a matter of a few seconds, he went through the five stages of grief, as if the reveal of Spider-Man's identity (to be not a mysterious stranger, but someone he _knew_ , a real, fleshed-out person) implicated the death of the vigilante.

There was no possible way that Spidey could be Peter Parker, a regular, kind of douchy student who worked for the Daily Bugle ;

But the evidence was there. He was, and that asshole had been laughing at Johnny's back since the beginning ;

Couldn't he go back in time ? Help Sue in her task for a few minutes, so Parker could be waiting for him in the café by the time he got there, anonymous ? He would ignore Spidey's identity forever if it meant things could go back to normal ;

Because there was no way they could be the same, now. He had lost him, in a way. Or rather, he was only now realizing that in some aspect their friendship had been superficial, kept so by unbreachable barriers. And yet, now that they had fallen, it seemed that they were thrown even further apart, and that even the easy companionship they had would be gone ;

But now that he looked at Peter Parker with this new information in mind, details about him that had always irked the blond suddenly made sense. His mannerisms which kept bothering a part of Johnny -not because they were irritating, but because of their familiarity, one he couldn't previously place. His unexplained involvement in issues he had no part to play in as a photographer, along with a knowledge of them that made him look like a creepy hero stalker -because he'd been right here in the middle of the action, not spying on it. His talent for science -Spidey was a nerd, he knew that already. His antisocial tendencies -because he had to isolate himself in order to save the day as Spider-Man. Brisk, rude retorts to questions he couldn't answer sincerely without revealing his identity.

The wariness in his irises as he waited for Johnny's reaction, eyes usually hidden between white lenses now revealed for the world -fo Johnny- to see. _According to... someone close to me, they are so easy to read, you know. Always betray me. I'm forced to have a mask that cover them, otherwise my opponents would be able to predict all of my moves as soon as I think them, you know ? Besides, it helps with the sensory overload._

Of course he was Spider-Man. Who else could it be ?  


"Oh, you jerk," he let out with an unexpected amount of affection. "I can't believe you. And then you dare to mock my selfies ?"

Peter's (Spidey's) lips quivered before turning into a hesitant smile. "Ah... At least I don't put dumb filters on them ?..."

  
It wasn't that funny, nervousness weakening his usual snark, but Johnny snorted all the same as he took a few steps closer to his friend. He stopped a few inches from him, his gaze jumping constantly from the red suit circling his neck to his face, as if forcing his mind to establish the link between these two elements. He could not stop cataloguing each detail of the brunet's appearance. Spidey was a brunet. The sun gave his hair copper tones. He had brown eyes -common, and until then Johnny had not really paid attention to them (he had a weakness for people with dark hair and clear eyes, finding the contrast pleasant) but they had kind of a doe-like quality to them, and the color fit him ; an autumnal monochrome.

  
"So... Were you ever planning on telling me your identity, or was I bound to find it out next to garbage ?"

"It's not that I did not want you to know," Peter hurried to say. "It's just that... it's not safe."

"I'm a hero," Johnny reminded. "You are not putting me in any more danger than I already am."

"Yeah. A hero who might face mind-readers."

That... was a legitimate concern, actually.

"Oh. Right."

"Well, what's done is done," Spidey Parker sighed while fastening the last buttons of his shirt.

"Does it bother you ? That I know, now ?"

The vigilante looked at him silently for a moment, considering. "No. I'm happy," he admitted, lowering his head to fetch his shoes from his bag (and, Johnny suspected, to avoid facing him).

"And you ?" Spidey asked, still not looking at him as he laced his sneakers.

"Me what ?" said Johnny, confused.

"Does it bother you, that I'm, uh, me ? Peter Parker ?"

"Peter," Johnny tried out the name out loud. Spidey froze. "Peter," the blond repeated. He thought himself in danger of getting addicted to saying that word. "You're my best friend."

  
Slowly, Peter stood back up and Johnny soon found himself engulfed in a hug. Spidey's body ran colder than his, and yet Johnny was elated to find that he was one of these people who gave hugs you could not help but sink into, drowning out everything except for the comfort of human touch. He closed his eyelids to fully enjoy the feeling of it as he embraced him back, resisting the urge to sweep an hand through Peter's hair, as he feared the gesture would be too intimate. He was still able to smell his shampoo and the skin of his neck -a discreet, unidentifiable scent that the blond tried to commit to his memory in case he did not get the occasion to experience it again. He felt his own body thrum and sing, as it always did when he hugged a lover ( _Oh. Oh no._ He decided he'd deal with _this_ later).

He couldn't hold in a deep exhale as Peter squeezed him.

  
"You're mine too," was his hushed confession, gentle and so, so sweet to Johnny's heart.


	5. As pining idiots

"Wanna go to Comic Con with me ?"

Peter stared at Johnny.

"Comic con ?"

"Yeah. You know, that giant thing where people come together to fangirl about geeky things, weeboo things, and superhero things."

"I know what Comic Con is," Peter said. "But why do you want to go ? And won't you get mobbed anyway ?"

"Of course not. We'll be undercover. There are plenty of cosplays with masks. Hell, I'm sure that you could even go in your suit and no one would be the wiser."

"There is no way I'll do that." The brunet ignored Johnny's mutter ("paranoid") and carried on : "And I'm asking again : why do you want to go ? It doesn't really seem like your scene."  
  
Johnny shrugged, stuffing another piece of candy in his mouth.

"I'm curious. Those are the most ravenous heroes fans ; I'd like to see how they interact when we're not with them, ya know ? Besides, I liked the Batman movies. I'm sure there will be at least a few interesting stands..."

"I guess... Stop hogging the marshmallows, put them between us."

"I'm not hogging them."

"You so are."

"It's just more practical to have them on my lap. They could fall if I put them here."

"Bullshit."

"No, it's true, look, how do you expect them to stay on that thin-ass armrest-"

"YO, CAN'T YOU TWO SHUT THE FUCK UP ?"

They both jumped in their theater seats. A bunch of marshmallows fell from the package in Johnny's hands and into Peter's lap.

"Maybe we should go out of the cinema," the photographer whispered.

"Yeah that movie sucks anyway," his friend said loudly.

  
The guy who'd yelled at them turned to glare as the duo made their swift escape out of the room.

* * *

"Woah, that's a lot of people."

"Haven't you ever come here before ? I thought nerds were legally forbidden to miss this event."

Peter glanced at Johnny. Torchy had come as Howl, from Miyazaki's movie _Howl's Moving Castle_ , and Peter hated that he was pretty enough to pull it off perfectly. He had chosen to go with a black-haired wig, because as he put it _"You wouldn't believe how much hair color can transform one's face, Webs"_.

It suited him. It suited him so much, and he feared his heart could not take this for much longer.

("You could come as Sophie," Johnny had added. "You definitely have the eyebrows for it.")

(It had earned him a silver, 100% webs-made wig. It had taken 2 hours to dissolve from his hair. Sometimes Johnny swore it still smelled like chemicals.)

Instead, Peter had decided to go for a cheap and easy cosplay. He needed no wig, lenses or make-up to go as Luke Skywalker, and the outfit he wore at the beginning of _A New Hope_ was basic enough to find what he needed in a thrift shop. He had even been able to borrow beige boots from Johnny.

"I did, once, when I was little," he answered his friend's question. "It was nice, but at one point the crowd freaked me out, and that freaked my Aunt out, so I didn't go the year after. And then as a teen I figured that going on my own wouldn't be enjoyable, so I didn't."

"Crowds freak you out ?" Johnny asked as they slipped into the queue to enter the Javits Center.

Peter shrugged. "Sometimes, if the atmosphere gets oppressive. Like, at the time, everyone was taller than me, and the air was hot and stuffy, so... it was a bit too much for my kid self. It should be fine now, I've gone to crowded events without any issues before."

"Shouldn't it be worse, with your... you know."

Johnny made a vague gesture around his head, flapping his hands near his ears, to refer to his supersenses without risking behind overheard by the other queuers chatting around them. Peter watched him with unconcealed contempt.

"I'll manage. I've had them for years now." He blinked at the blue, sunny sky. "Shame to spend a day like this indoors, though."

The air was unusually warm for early October. This kind weather probably wouldn't last for much longer.

* * *

  
All things considered, security was quite efficient, and the two friends did not have to wait for more than twenty minutes before they found themselves inside. The Javits Convention Center was as huge as Peter remembered, and he had to resist the impulse to climb up to the high ceiling.

They wisely chose to take a map of the place and spent ten minutes trying to decipher it in quiet, millennial puzzlement. Johnny usually relied on GPS to find his way through the City and Peter (who had no 4G on his phone) knew how to navigate it, as a born and bred New Yorker.

"Oh, fuck it," Johnny declared after a while of arguing over which direction to take. "Let's explore !"

"Fine," Peter sighed, shoving the map into one of the little bags tied to his belt. They crossed path with a Spider-Man cosplayer as they started on a line of stands.

"Do you think some of the others came disguised as cosplayers of themselves ?"

"Ooh, definitely. We'll have to watch the Cosplay Contest, see if we can spot them."

"I hope _they_ don't spot us."

"Psh. We're undetectable. Oh, look at that !" Johnny pointed to a stand full of plushes like an elated kid, and then seemed to remember himself. "Hum... I'm sure they feel soft."

"Right. Let's go, then."

Getting closer to the stand, they noticed that the big plushes weren't for sale but rather part of a fair game of darts, whereas the smaller ones sported (overpriced) tags.

"They look so different from western plushies," Peter observed. Indeed, these ones tended to be as round as possible and displayed pastel colors, obviously preferring the cute factor over realism. Next to them, a girl dressed as Hatsune Miku squealed over a pink ball of fluff. Only its two long ears and stitched eyes permitted to identify it as a rabbit.

"They're so adorable," Flamebrain sighed. "Look at that panda."

"It's weird. Why does it have an emoticon face ?"

"Weird can be cute too." Johnny put his elbow on Peter's shoulder so he could rest his chin in his palm, and leaned as heavily as he could on the vigilante, still staring at the giant plushie at the back of the stand. Peter counterattacked by digging his index and middle fingers in his friend's ticklish side, who yelped and let his arm slip from his unwilling support.

"If you want it, you'll have to win it," Peter pointed out.

"I don't want it. Not that much, I mean. I'm just admiring it." But the pinched expression on his face told otherwise. Peter clicked his tongue.

"Excuse me ?" he called to one of the vendors, who came over in a rather harassed manner (Peter pitied him. The day had barely started). "How much to play ?"

The vendor rattled off his speech like his life depended on it and he was ready for it to end. "Seven dollars for three arrows. If you get one balloon, you get a small sized plushie -those right in front of you. If you get two, you can have a medium-sized, to your right, and if you get all three of them you can get a large one."

Peter handed him the right amount of money, and the guy gave him the darts and went to start the windy mechanism that made the balloons move and bounce around in their open box.

"You're really going to play ?" Johnny whispered in his ear (Peter held back a shiver). "You know this is a scam, right ? These things aren't even pointy. They're rigged so you can't pierce shit with them."

"You forget I've got the Force on my side."

He exploded a yellow balloon with the first dart he threw. It stayed stuck in the back of the wooden panel behind the balloons. He winced a bit ; he'd better slightly tone down his strength. A few curious con-goers who had stopped to watch cheered as he struck down a second one. One of them, wearing a World of Warcraft tee-shirt, yelled "GG, YOUNG PADAWAN !" as he pierced the third one.

  
It was with a put out expression that the vendor handed him the giant ":3"-faced panda. Peter felt slightly guilty until he realized that his supernatural success had gotten rid of many people's reservations, and that the line to play had magically doubled in size.

"Here you go," he said as he gave the panda to Johnny, who hugged it to his chest, surprised.

"You won it for me ?"

"Well, yeah. Isn't it mandatory for this kind of date ?" He had meant to go for a joking tone, but he realized with dawning horror that it had rather come out as an awkward attempt at flirting. A girl in front of them turned to look at the owners of the two male voices she'd heard and then muttered something in her friend's ear, who also looked behind her before exchanging a glance with the first girl as they both dissolved into giggles.

They did not. help the matter. at all.

"A date ?" Johnny's teasing voice quoted. "I see."

Was it his imagination, or did he actually sound contemplative ? Peter could feel Johnny's scrutinizing gaze on the side of his face. He redirected his attention to the stands they passed along as they slowly walked in rhythm with the crowd, hyper-aware of the Torch in the periphery of his vision.

"You know that I'm hopelessly in love with you, sunshine," he said in his best deadpan voice.

Flippancy was normal. Flippancy was good.

"Yes, how could you go on with your life if I wasn't there to light up your days ?"

He snorted at his best friend's melodramatic spiel, forcefully ignoring the pang in his chest. The weird moment had passed -if it even existed outside of Peter's mind."I'd wither away for sure," he said.

It wasn't even an exaggeration.

"Guess I'll just have to stick around, then," Johnny concluded.

Peter hummed noncommittally.

As they progressed through the con, they crossed path with many heroes cosplayers and stands dedicated to them. It was all well and good until they noticed that one of them sold body pillows with fanarts -and even photos- of real-life heroes printed on them.

"Well this is awkward," Johnny said as they gawked at the disturbing display.

"Let's move far away from here."

"I have to admit that I'm struggling with the urge to buy one."

"No."

"Come on, it would be fun."

"No."

"Imagine Sue's face."

"No."

"Check out this one. The drawing style is fabulous. Look at that shading on m... the abs."

"No."

"I'll buy it for you. This way, even when I'm not here you'll have this to keep you company when you feel lonely."

" _No_."

(Johnny did end up buying Peter some of his own merch, "to make things even" as he put it. It was a blue hoodie with the word "Flamer" written in white caps on its back above a huge "4" made of flames ; the type of clothing Peter typically cringed away from.  
He scoffed at it in disgust when his friend handed him the bag with wiggling eyebrows, but he secretly loved it and swore internally to wear it only in the privacy of his home.  
His flat was always far too cold during winter anyway. He wasn't about to spit on a free hoodie.  
Also, he needed new PJs.)

* * *

  
The duo looked at the queues in front of each food truck forlornly.

"I'll buy the burgers, you buy dessert ?" Johnny suggested.

"Deal."

  
With no tables available, they had had to sit down on the floor among other snacking visitors to eat their food and rest their tired feet. Now, their empty burger wraps were stuffed in a plastic bag as Peter opened up another one.

"I had to sell my liver for those ice-creams. They'd better taste as good as they look."

"Why are there two sticks on them ?" Johnny asked, unsuccessfully trying to clean his hands of grease on tiny napkins.

"It's to split them up and share them. Haven't you ever watched a shojo ? Or even a drama ?"

"...no ? What's a shojo ?"

"... why did you invite me here."

"I told you : curiosity. I wanted to observe the nerds in their natural habitat."

"You're wearing an elaborated cosplay. You don't get to call me or anyone else here out for nerdiness."

"Hey, when you arrive in a foreign place, you adapt to the culture and you do it well. Besides, it suits me. I even have my own Calcifer !"

With a grin, Johnny lit up a small ball of fire in his hand. People around them gasped.

_"How did he do that ? Does he have superpowers ?"_

_"Hey, doesn't he look familiar ?"_

_"Oh my god"_

_"Howl ? Are you a celebrity ?"_

"Oops," Johnny smiled sheepishly, snuffing out his fire.

"Johnny, you're so fucking stupid," Peter breathed out, one already half-melted ice cream in each hand. Torchy stole one and put it in his mouth as he examined the drawings on the ice-cream package, indifferent to the attention he had gathered.

"It's very mushy," he observed. "Are these chibi characters a couple ? Did you buy us couple food ?"

Peter boggled at him. He felt his cheeks start to heat up. Johnny's blue eyes left the ice cream wrapping to stare right into his soul as he sucked on his lollipop. Peter couldn't know what his friend saw on his face, but it made his expression shift imperceptibly into something he couldn't interpret. Johnny blinked slowly ; Peter could not hold his gaze any longer and dropped it, putting his own ice cream in his mouth. He had to take it out almost immediately to lick off what had melted on his hand during the staring contest with his best friend.

Someone shrieked. _"Did you hear that ? He called him Johnny ! HOWL, ARE YOU JOHNNY STORM ?"_

It was enough to generate screams in the crowd.

"Ah shit," the FF member eloquently put, strangely slow to react.

Then he was drowned under a mob of fans.

* * *

  
Unsurprisingly, it turned into an autograph session. After the initial freak out, people were respectful enough to give Johnny a small perimeter of space, which allowed Peter to sneak away with their purchases as everyone pretty much ignored his presence to focus on the Human Torch.  
He trusted that Johnny would handle the crowd very well, anyway. But it would have been dreadfully naive to expect that they could continue to walk through the Comic Con, now. Peter's shoulders dropped. Should he go watch some panels, now ? It seemed pointless to do so without having anyone to share comments with.

Peter walked aimlessly for a few moments, looking for all the world to see like a lost potato in a cornfield. A Princess Leïa cosplayer stopped him to ask if her friends could take pictures of them together, and he complied, handing Johnny's panda and his hoodie to the photograph buddy. With a bright "thank you !" they skipped away and the vigilante found himself alone once more, munching on his ice cream stick (having finished the treat for a while, now. Where were the trashcans ?). A guy dressed up as Deadpool was holding a Free Hugs cardboard, and pointed at him while jumping up and down excitedly when he noticed that Peter was all on his lonesome.

He had to admit that the cosplay was very good, and it wasn't not like he had anything better to do. Plus, he was a bit touch-starved ever since his social life had once again took an abysmal dive, with Harry in a mental hospital, Flash sent away to the army (he still didn't understand why he'd gone, but then again Flash and he had never been good at getting each other) and MJ off to dazzle her audience in Broadway, and he felt a bit icky about getting so abruptly separated from Johnny. Hugging a stranger might be a weird concept, but he thought he could indulge in it for a few seconds.

So he went up to the cosplayer, probably as dead-faced as he felt inside, and he had to tiptoe so he could throw his arms around the guy's neck, not even bothering to put down his plushie and hoodie to do it.

"Hi there," the dude said with a cheery voice as he embraced him back.

A very, very familiar cheery voice.

Come to think of it (and this process took a few seconds because he had just eaten a huge burger (and been dumped for _groupies_ ), this cosplay was disturbingly accurate, down to the smell of gunpowder and dried blood.  
Realization hit. Peter immediately let go of the mercenary, but Deadpool didn't seem to be bothered by it, grin obvious under his mask.

"One of the best hugs I've received today !" he commented, and oh fucking god it really was him why was this Peter's life. "Very nice technique, though the ending was a bit brutal. Work on that maybe. Anyway, you get a 9 out of 10 ! Have a good Comic Con, Lollipop !"

With a wave, the merc with a mouth was off. A Spider-Man plushie peeked from his backpack (Peter thanked the stars for not cursing him with the sight of Deadpool carrying a Spidey body pillow around. He was not sure he would have recovered from it.)  
... it was lucky that he was too brain-dead to react outwardly, because accidentally revealing his secret identity to Deadpool in the middle of Comic Con would have made this day go from _cool_ to _not so cool_ to _terrible, never do this again please_ extremely quickly.  
He couldn't believe he just gave a hug to Deadpool, when he put in all of his efforts as Spider-Man to keep a minimum distance of one feet between them at all times, after the Butt-Grab Incident. He decided to erase the last few minutes from his brain. No one knew. No one would ever know.

A buzz from his back pocket broke his trail of thought. He reached for his phone and checked his messages.

**_Flamebrain_** 😒

escape successful ✌️ meet @ the entrance ?

  
Peter decided to make him steam a little.

**  
_You_ **

Ok.

**_Flamebrain_** 😒

😱

He allowed himself a smirk.

(That group of furries had no room to judge him for smirking alone at his phone, anyway. Their fursonas' empty, sparkly eyes were terrifying.)

* * *

  
He let out a sigh of relief as he stepped out of the Javits Center. The breath of fresh air was cleansing after the stifling atmosphere of the convention.

"Hey," Johnny greeted, appearing by his side.

Peter gave a start. "Were you hiding in the bushes ?"

Torchy looked around him pointedly. He had gotten rid of the pink coat (in all likelihood to better blend in) and he looked like a young nobleman straight out of a Shakespeare play, because _of course_ he did. "Do you see any bushes around here ?"

"Whatever. How did you manage to run from your fans ?"

"I didn't, actually, so let's move." Indeed, a gaggle of teenagers seemed a little bit too focused on the two of them to be innocently watching the landscape.

"Where do you suggest ?"

Johnny raised his hand to show a plastic bag. "There are still two pairs of lollipops left. Wanna eat them in Central Park ? They put a shuttle bus for today."

Peter glanced at his Star Wars outfit.

"I'm sure there are plenty cosplayers having a picnic there," Johnny reassured him.

"Okay, then, lead the way."

  
The bunch of fans was still following them when they took the shuttle, sitting down a few seats behind as if it made their purpose less clear. Peter now regretted bitterly to have chosen a maskless costume. He hoped that none of them was recording his face next to the Human Torch ; he didn't need anyone on the internet to enquire about the identity of the youngest Storm's pal.

"We'll have to lose them in the park," Johnny hissed, petting the panda plush on his knees absently. Peter nodded his agreement, silent. _What a way to ruin a date, if only this was a date to ruin_ , he thought sardonically.

The stalkers' attempt at being subtle led to their doom, in the end. After ten minutes of tense walking in the park, giggles coming from a few feet behind them grating Peter's ears, they managed to hide from them after they'd weaved through a group of elders and then ducked into the trees.

After that, they decided not to go back on the paved roads and to keep to the forest paths. They finally managed to find a secluded spot in a small clearing with a fallen, polished tree truck put there as a bench. Johnny draped himself over it dramatically as he took off his wig with flourish.

"These things are awful. I don't know how you can stand having your head fully covered half of the time."

"Question of habit," Peter answered, sitting down next to him. He switched his hoodie bag for the one Johnny had put on the tree-bench, taking out the ice cream package.

"What ? What's up ?" Johnny asked when he saw his friend's downtrodden face.

Peter wordlessly handed him a single package of lollipops. Johnny grimaced as he felt the squishy texture of it. "Oh. Should have expected that."

"Yep. Too bad, they were good."

"Bah, they probably give diabetes if you eat more than one at once, anyway," he threw back the melted ice creams in the plastic bag.

Peter chuckled as he laid his hands on the trunk to lean back, but a peculiar sound caught his attention and he froze. Johnny tilted his head, confused, and straightened up, familiar with his friend's spidey-senses. Peter twisted to his left, trying to spot the source of the... heartbeat ? Song ? It sounded a bit like a song. "Wha..." Johnny started, but the vigilante raised a hand and hushed him.

His acute eyes lowered to the trunk, where they spotted a jumping spider. Peter squinted, intrigued. What the heck was he doing, moving his legs like that ? Why was he shimmying ? Did the sound come from him ?  
The spider made jazz hands at Peter, and he thought he heard a "boom" vibrate in his eardrums. The spider's intent suddenly became clear to the young man, and he grew increasingly flustered as the arachnid continued to dance and send musical vibrations to him. Distracted, he did not notice Johnny getting closer to him until the blond's heat was to his back as he looked over Peter's shoulder to watch the spider's display.

"I don't understand what's going on," Johnny confided in a whisper. The spider added a buzzing sound, moving his legs faster and faster.

"He, uh. He's doing a mating dance. With a song," Peter explained to his human-sensed friend.

"A mating dance ? To what spider ?" Peter blushed. "You !?" Johnny exclaimed, shocked.

"Uh... yeah..."

They both watched the spider's frantic dance for a few moments before Johnny asked :

"But... why ?"

The vigilante shrugged. "I don't know. Weird things happen sometimes with spiders. I guess I must give off female spider pheromones ? Or something like that, it's the only explanation I could come up with anyway. If the spider who bit me was female, it's possible. This little guy must have gotten a bit confused..."

"So he's hitting on you."

"Mmh."

A short silence, and then :

"Is it working ?"

Peter swiveled in his spot to stare at Johnny, nearly butting his head against the other's in the process. "Of course not ! Don't be dumb !"

"Because it's male ?"

"No, because it's a _spider_ , Johnny. Just why would you think... you..."

"So," the hero continued without heeding his exasperation. "If I, a human male, were to dance for you, it would work ?"

He could not hear the spider anymore ; just a low ringing noise.

"What ?" Peter blurted out.

Johnny was looking at him intensely. "If I danced for you, would you be seduced ? Or would you prefer a serenade ?"

Peter got abruptly aware of his friend's proximity : his chest pressed against Peter's back, the palm he had placed on the trunk near his hip when he'd leaned over his shoulder -he hadn't moved it since, nor had he bothered to recoil when the brunet had turned his head to face him. Their noses were almost touching.

It struck Peter's mind, then, that Johnny was not playing with him. This was no platonic banter, no fake-flirting just for a laugh with no real intent to it aside from messing around. His best friend's expression was too serious for him to be kidding, almost tense in its solemnity. Peter was momentarily rendered mute, eyes wide and heart beating so fast and hard that he was sure it would escape from his ribcage, overly conscious of each of his senses reaching out to better perceive Johnny.

"So ?" Johnny asked, and the hint of nervousness in his voice, betraying his confident composure, was enough to break Peter out of his shock, enough for him to close the distance between them and brush his lips against Johnny's, eyelids shut, and to frankly kiss him when his gesture did not provoke any protest but a relieved, shaky sigh.

The kiss was rather subdued, as if both of them were afraid of going too far, and it lasted only for a few seconds before they broke it, staring at each other. The spider had skittered away, disappointed by his obvious failure.

Johnny's smile was wide.

"I've seen you at karaokes, I'll pass," Peter huffed out, his own lips tilted up and pulling at his cheeks. He leaned his back playfully against his friend's torso.

"You're depriving yourself of a wonderful experience," Johnny snipped back. He uselessly brushed a hand through Peter's bangs, either to arrange his hair or to mess it up, Peter did not know.

"I don't need it," he said. "I already like you."

"Oh thank god," Johnny sighed happily, bringing him in for a second peck on the lips."I'm so glad I didn't misread any of this, it would have been so awkward."

"Uh ?"

"Your whole signals thing ?"

Peter looked at him blankly.

"You were sending me signals, right ?"

"Signals ?"

"Like, you decided to flirt back ?"

"...You were flirting with me ?"

"... Yes ? Weren't you ?"

"...No ?" Upon seeing Johnny's face, he hurried to add, "I mean, not intentionally, because I didn't want you to find out about my feelings, but..."

"This is so embarrassing," the blond groaned, a hand clutching at his forehead. "We're so lame."

"Very," Peter agreed, quivering under the pressure of held-in laughter. "We'd better stop talking now so the shame doesn't consume us, and move on to more interesting things."

Johnny instantly perked up. "Oh-hooo, I love how you think, Mister Parker... Unless you're only projecting your spider-induced arousal on the next best thing ? If so, I am truly hurt-"

"Oh, shut up, you dumbass," Peter said as he shifted his whole body and threw a leg over the hero's lap to sit on it so he could initiate a longer kiss with him, sucking sweetly at his lips. Johnny responded in kind, pulling him closer as he used his tongue to caress Peter's. Peter couldn't resist the temptation of nipping his bottom lip softly as he enjoyed the feeling of Johnny's mouth against his, trying to map it in his mind with his sense of touch only.

"I like you so much," Johnny mumbled at some point. Peter didn't bother to answer ; instead, he chose to slightly squeeze the Torch's waist between his thighs. Johnny let out a groan at the action and went nearly completely lax as Peter held him and deepened the kiss -with an arm around his neck and one slipped between his shoulderblades, hugging, pulling softly at his shirt. Johnny's hands, who had remained respectfully at the small of his back until then, slipped further down as his tongue entered Peter's mouth. Peter let Johnny's hands push them closer until their bodies were brought together, with no space left between them to keep their heat apart. A moan surged from what felt like the bottom of his belly, burning his spine along the way as it pooled in his chest for a second before it was muffled against Johnny's lips.

Needless to say that their second make-out session went far better than the first one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to the Marvel Wiki, the spider who bit Peter was female. So when I saw a video about jumping spiders mating rituals, well... I couldn't resist including it. I knew there were spiders who danced, but I had no idea some of them added background music to it. They're so extra.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you guys liked this chapter ! I haven't finished writing the last one yet, but the next update still shouldn't take too long to come.
> 
> Huge thanks to the people who left kudos (and reviews, of course), you rock.
> 
> 'till next time !


	6. + 1 : As Lovers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this took some time lmao. To be fair, I worked very intensely these last few days (with 10 hours of work per day) and happened to work night shifts too, which is usually the moment I use to write/proofread this fic.  
> Huge thanks to anyone who has followed this fic, be it from the start or along the way. It's not the most plot-heavy fic, nor the most emotionally charged or the most well-written, but it still feels great to write again. However it wouldn't have been so if I hadn't interacted with you guys : it's hard to translate one's writing style to a different language, so getting kudos and reviews was very encouraging. Thank you again.
> 
> Anyway, this is the last chapter. Enjoy !

"I'm dating Spidey," Johnny declared at the dinner table, confident and proud.

Reed did not even lift his head from the bot he was fiddling with. "Sure."

"Do you want more potatoes, Ben ?" Sue asked.

"'Course ; with a bit of cream, please."

"Hello ?" Johnny raised his voice. "I said I'm dating Spider-Man ! We're together !"

"We heard you, Johnny, no need to yell," his sister scolded him. "Now eat, it's going to get cold."

He stared at her, incredulous. "I have fire powers. I control the heat around me."

"So ? Heating up a good meal gone cold does it no good."

"Your sister is right, Johnny," Reed said absently.

Johnny took a mouthful of potatoes, feeling savage. "There, happy ?"

"Yes."

"Brat."

Johnny swallowed. "Now : is that all you have to say about it ?"

Reed blinked up at him. "It's just potatoes."

"I meant about Spidey and I !" Were they doing this on purpose !?

Ben snorted. "What, like it's not old news ?" Johnny sputtered and Sue patted his back half-heartedly.

"There, there," she said, like he was some kind of toddler having a fit.

"I don't understand how you can take this so flippantly," the youngest member of the FF said once he had recovered from his coughing fit.

Sue exchanged a glance with her husband, then looked at her brother apologetically. Oh no, he hated that look.

"Johnny, I'm sorry but... you two aren't discreet at all."

"We've known for months, squirt," Ben grunted.

Johnny stared. "We've only been dating for five days."

Ben roared in laughter. Reed finally stopped messing with his bot and began eating like a normal human being. Sue let out an amused scoff, which was very undignified of her, Johnny was going to tell the paps and they would run clickbait articles about it and she was going to become a meme and she would have had it coming.

"Come on, we're not blind."

"But-"

"Nice joke, matchstick," the Thing chuckled and ruffled his hair. "Ya kids always crack me up."

"We had time to get used to the idea," Sue carried on with a smile. "We just didn't mention it because we figured you weren't ready to tell us. I guess that means you know his real identity ?"

"Uh, yes, I do, but we really got toge--"

"So he doesn't have eight eyes, I take it ? Then again you did date aliens, so who knows," Ben mused aloud.

"Okay, first, he's not an alien, he's a mutate, and second--"

"I knew it," Reed interrupted triumphantly. "Mutate. Ha !"

"Back to the point ! Yes, I've known who he is for like, a year, but we were totally platonic friends until last weekend. We weren't dating before, I _swear_."

"Alright Johnny, if you say so," Sue said in her pleasant tone that meant I-totally-don't-believe-you-but-I'll-indulge-you.

Johnny held back a scream of frustration, exhaling deeply.

"Careful, that's hot air you just breathed on me," his step-brother commented. Johnny threw him an irritated glare and forced the next words out.

"Guys, I'm trying to have a serious discussion here. He means a lot to me. It's not just a romance. He's also my best friend."

Even Ben sobered at that declaration. Sue put down her fork and laid her hand on her little brother's wrist, supportive. "We know, Johnny," she said softly. "We have faith in you two. By now, we know that no matter what happens, you're both gonna be alright. You've got a strong bond, and... he is practically family, anyway. You can bring him over as much as you want, if that's what you wanted to ask. We'll give you privacy."

Johnny blinked rapidly, trying to chase away the trace of emotion that had gathered in his eyes. He had not expected that.

"Thank you," he managed to utter in a breath.

"So, any chances we might see the face behind the mask, now ?" Ben asked.

Johnny contemplated this question for a moment and shrugged. "I don't know. Even his parent doesn't know who he is, so..."

It felt kind of wrong for his boyfriend's family to know him better than the woman who raised him.

"And he still told you ?" Reed was visibly surprised.

"Nah, I found out by accident, actually."

"His family still doesn't know ?" Sue was frowning. "I thought he would have told them at this point."

"He is in a complicated situation," her husband said thoughtfully. "His reputation has improved, but he's still a rather controversial figure. It's possible that his relatives would disapprove, or even report him to the police."

"He's more worried about putting them in danger," Johnny explained. "They have a normal life, he doesn't want to drag them into the vigilante lifestyle. Plus, they would freak out about him being in fights, according to him."

"Oh, that boy," sighed Sue. "He is so oblivious. If his parent loves him, they are already dragged into this. There is no way they haven't noticed whenever he got hurt, or how tired he must be, going after criminals every night. Family is supposed to look after their own, after all. They can't have missed it."

"I hope he knows he can come to us," Reed added somberly.

"Of course he does," Johnny said. He had to. Right ?

"Ya better make sure of it," Ben advised around a mouthful of potatoes. "Brat can be damn slow, sometimes. Pretty sure he'd have to break both arms before takin' off his gloves in front of us. The way he behaves, I wouldn't be surprised if he believes that he'd be oversteppin' if he showed us his face."

That, Johnny couldn't really argue with.

* * *

"But my Aunt does know," Peter told him some days later on a rooftop.

"What."

"Yes, it's a recent development, I mean, compared to all the time I've been doing this."

"But... why ? I thought you wanted to keep it from her ?"

For a moment, Johnny thought Peter wouldn't answer, but he began to talk after a short while of contemplation. "I decided to tell her a few months ago. I want to protect her for as long as possible, and I thought that the best way to do this was to keep her in the dark but..." He trailed off, and then abruptly said :"She is a smart woman. Observant. She knew I was hiding something from her, and I could see that it was hurting her, and that she fretted about me." Yeah, no kidding. "She already confronted me about it when I was still living with her, back in high school, you know ?" Johnny hadn't, actually. Spidey had still been overprotective of anything regarding his private life, back then. "She was frightened that I was... doing drugs, or going out to get myself into trouble purposefully, because of... what happened with my uncle. That I wasn't dealing with it well. I managed to lie to her, found some excuses and got my grades up and missed school a bit less, but... I don't think she was totally convinced."

Peter went silent for a little bit. Johnny knew that Ben Parker had been killed by a robber, but not much else. Years ago, Peter had choked up upon talking about it, and -familiar with the pain of losing a parent in painful circumstances- Johnny had not wanted to push, especially as his passing had obviously affected his nephew a lot ; probably more than Johnny could fully conceive, even, if it was what had set Peter on the path of vigilante justice. Because he was wearing the Spider-Man mask, Johnny couldn't read his mood on his face, but he could vaguely guess at his musings, as his own mind wandered to how his relationship with Sue had evolved when they both became orphans.

He couldn't imagine imposing such a burdening secret to his sister when he'd already felt like he was a weight on her shoulders solely because of his existence, dragging her away from her dreams.  
Yet, he thought privately that keeping such an important part of his life from her would have totally ruined their bond ; she would have known that he was hiding something. She would have been hurt. Distressed.

Peter let out a small, bitter laugh. "I wasn't really doing a good job at keeping her from worrying, uh ?"

"You had good intentions," Johnny consoled maladroitly. Since Peter didn't respond, he prompted : "What made you change your mind, then ?"

"You learnt the truth about me," he said simply. "And we were fine. Better, even. No enemies of mine noticed and went after you. I kept expecting the other shoe to drop in the following weeks, you know."

"Yeah, you were kind of insufferable with stress," Johnny reminisced. So much snapping and fretting. Ugh. At least, it had taught Johnny how to be patient when his friends were being dumbasses.

"Sorry about that," Peter apologized sheepishly. "I didn't sleep a lot. I spent nights thinking about it, or, I don't know, waiting for it all to implode or something. But nothing happened. Then, one day, May called me, and... for once, I noticed it."

"It ?"

"I could hear it at the end of our call, how she was still waiting for me to tell her what was going on. Whenever we chatted, she'd always do this pause, like... like she was giving me an opening. And I never took it, and each time, she'd get this look on her face, like she'd been expecting it, and yet she was still disappointed. But she was so resigned lately, you know ? I figured that it wasn't right for her to worry that I was going down a dark path, or that I was trying to cut her off my life -which I did, even if I didn't want to, and even if it was for her own good. It felt like we were losing each other. And I thought about it, and maybe she'll actually be safer from my enemies if she is prepared for them, if some day they come after her. So I told her I had something to tell her next time I visited. And I did."

"How did she take it ?"

Peter shrugged, but he did not answer, and Johnny decided not to press. He had already shared with him far more of his intimate feelings than he'd usually allowed himself to show. They let the silence between them go back to being comfortable as they watched the line of horizon cut by the dark shape of buldings, enjoying the last rays of sunshine together.

As he glanced at Spidey, crouched with his hand palm down between his legs instead of sitting down, he let himself hope that they would share more moments like this one.

"I want you to meet her, by the way."

Even if he loved being able to see his face, the Spider-Man suit was still undeniably incredibly sexy, Johnny had the time to think before Peter's words registered.

"Eh ?" he asked intelligently.

"I told her I met someone, but I didn't specify who you were. She knows that we're very close friends but that's it. But I think that it's about time you meet her anyway, dating or not. I just didn't know how to justify the fact that I knew a superhero, before, and it became kind of an habit not to mention any of you, so..."

"Oh. Well. Okay. Cool."

He was going to meet Peter's only family member, who knew next to nothing about him. No pressure, then.

* * *

The Parker household was nice and homely.

The first thing you noticed upon entering an house that wasn't yours was its smell, imperceptible to its inhabitants but obvious to anyone else. For their visit, May Parker had cooked them a beef and vegetables casserole, which had filled the atmosphere with a pleasant fragrance that didn't fully cover the flowery scent in the hall -May's perfume, maybe ?

Second was the light ; whether the windows were big enough to let it in fully, or covered by drapes. The color of the lightbulbs and the lusters or lampshades that went with them, controlling their intensity. In the Parker home, the windows weren't wide, but only white veils hid them from the street. Various lights had been peppered everywhere, mostly in yellow or orange tones, as if to give the illusion that the flames of the sun or a fireplace were here to warm the rooms.

Third were the pictures : absent or displayed proudly on the walls and the furniture. The Parkers belonged to the second category ; there were a few of a young couple with a baby -Johnny guessed they were Peter's parents- and one of an even younger couple in wedding wear, smiling at the camera with unconcealed happiness -Peter's Aunt and Uncle. There were far more of a family of three aging together, and then one of Peter's highschool graduation.

If they had taken any pictures after Ben Parker's death, Johnny guessed they had not wanted to see a reminder of his absence everyday. Perhaps they had been slipped carefully into family albums, to be taken out only on sentimental evenings.

But of course, the host was the most important feature when you were a guest at someone else's home.

And what a host May Parker was.

Knowing that she was the person who mattered the most in Peter's life, the one he loved above anyone else, Johnny had been nervous as hell about meeting her. Not only was Peter fiercely protective of his aunt, but he also had an enormous amount of respect for her. She and her husband had taught him each of his principles ; they were his moral compass in the madness that was his vigilante life. Johnny had no doubt that her disapproval would mean the end of his and Peter's relationship.

For these reasons, Johnny had expected her to stand tall, shadowing over him like he had no doubt she was in Peter's heart. Instead, the lady who'd opened her door to them was at least a head smaller than him, clad in a green cardigan that brought out her insightful emerald eyes, softened by crow's feet etched into her tanned skin. She had smiled at her nephew first, greeting him with a kiss on the cheek, and then she'd repeated the action with Johnny, though she hadn't lingered to pat him as she had with Peter.

"Come in, come in," she'd urged them warmly. After exchanging a few customary greetings and presentations as they shedded of their coats and shoes, they settled into the living-room with drinks on the low table in front of them.

"So you're the new love Peter told me about ? I didn't expect a boy, but he has good taste no matter the gender, I see," May declared with a mischievous glint in her eye as she took a sip out of her tea cup. Johnny gaped and Peter spluttered : " _May !_ "

"What ? I'm old, not blind. Have you ever posed for magazines, Johnny ?"

"Y-yes."

"See ?" she said to Peter. "I shouldn't be surprised ; you always liked pretty people."

Her nephew groaned in embarrassment.

"Forgive me, boys, but I have to go check on the beef," she announced as she rose back up. "Will you be alright for a few minutes ?"

"We will," answered Peter in a voice muffled by the hands he'd used to hide his face.

"Do you need help, Mrs Parker ?" asked Johnny, already half out of his seat.

"Oh, dear, call me May, please. You're sweet, but I'm the hostess ; you boys stay put and let me handle the cooking. Besides, I won't be long."

Then she went back to the kitchen, not even leaving them the time for any counter-argument. Johnny turned to Peter and hissed :

"She didn't know you're queer !?"

Peter showed back his face, looking frazzled. "I totally forgot to come out to her !"

"How the fuck can you forget something like that ?"

"I was so busy panicking about hiding and then revealing I was Spidey that it slipped my mind ! Can you blame me ? I had a whole secret identity to manage !"

"I guess it could be considered as another closet in itself," Johnny mused aloud. "But still !" he exclaimed. "It never came up when she asked about your love life ?"

"It just wasn't relevant ? I never dated a man before, or had a crush on one, so... I didn't really see the point in sitting her down to have a formal reveal about it, you know ?"

When he put it that way, it kind of made sense. "Well, she seems cool with it in any case. She took it in stride. I'm impressed."

"Yeah, she is a bit of a hippie like that," Peter said with no small amount of affection. "She went to some of the earliest pride parades, as an ally."

"Really ? That's so cool !"

His boyfriend hummed in agreement, sipping at his own cup of tea.

The noise of slippers alerted them of May's return as she strolled back into the living-room.

"So, Johnny," she began as she sat back on the couch in front of them. He tried not to tense. Time to turn on the charm. "How did you and Peter meet, exactly ?"

And thus began the tale of a breaking and entering into the Baxter Building ("Spidey wanted to become part of the FF, can you believe ?"), counter-attacked by an autograph slapped into one's hand unprompted ("I don't remember that," Johnny said. "Of course you don't," Peter retorted back, rolling his eyes. "You did leave a good impression when you did your speech at my school, though," he conceded. "What speech ? What are you talking about ?" Johnny asked. "Nevermind. Loser," Peter mumbled. Johnny bumped his thigh with his own beneath the table and Peter quirked up his lips into a smile).

Dinner was spent in a relaxed atmosphere, May's questions about Johnny and his life not coming off as an interrogation but rather as sincere interest. The blond could see where Peter had gotten his taste for wisecracks, as they always managed to make May laugh fondly, shaking her head (at one point, Johnny thought he saw her glance at a picture of her late husband as she giggled like a young girl, and he understood who must have been responsible for Peter's wittiness).

When Johnny got out of the Parker's home, waiting on the porch with the old woman as Peter went to retrieve a few books in his childhood bedroom, it was with a hug on the cheek and an invitation to come back soon (and to please take care of her nephew ; he could be so selflessly reckless).

  
(Johnny promised he would.)

* * *

Since Johnny had told Peter that his family didn't believe they had been dating for such a short time, they'd decided to be as obnoxious as possible about their relationship in their presence. According to their reasoning, it would show them the difference between them dating and their previous not-dating behavior.

Peter had to admit that there wasn't much change, all kissing aside. They were still as eager to tease each other and were more likely to use derogatory nicknames than romantic ones. Granted, they also didn't hold back on physical touch, but so hadn't they as best friends ; it hadn't been rare for one of them to sling an arm around the other's shoulder amicably or to drape themselves over each other to the express purpose of being annoying or dramatic.

So they had to play it up a little.

"Move your fat ass, your elbow is digging into my bladder," Johnny groaned, pushing Peter's shoulders. "...Honey," he added as a second thought for the benefit of Reed and Sue's ears, who had settled on the loveseat next to them.

Peter didn't even move his eyes away from the TV as he shifted a little to find a more comfortable spot, sprawled all over his boyfriend. The both of them had decided to spend the evening watching Parks and Recs in the Fantastic Four's wonderful living room, on their even more wonderful sofa. Peter still felt dreadfully jittery at the thought of the Fantastic Four learning his identity. It may have been because of the timing : he had spent years without anyone discovering it (not counting Harry and his father, and well... that did _not_ encourage him to tell anyone). Johnny and May had then learnt it only a few (stressful) weeks apart, and he had gone back to keeping it secret around everyone else for more than two months now. Taking off his mask in front of the FF would entail going out of the comfort zone he'd settled back in. Plus, the more people knew about him, the more the risk of it reaching hostile ears augmented.

As a result, even though he wore jeans and a tee-shirt, he still doned the mask when he was in a room with the others. It was a blatant attempt at pushing back the inevitable, but the heroic family did not seem to mind, which only served to reinforce the guilt eating at him.

"Better, Sunshine ?" Peter asked in a saccharine voice once he was done wiggling.

Johnny slipped his arms under Peter's armpits so he could wrap them around him, cross them over his chest, and dig his nails into both of Peter's sides as he tickled him. The brunet yelped and struggled against the arms enclosing him. "It is, thank you, boo," Johnny answered in a similar tone.

"Fuhh-fucking douchebag ! Let go !" Peter shrieked and laughed breathlessly.

"Now, is that a way to talk to your loving, brand new boyfriend ? Has the honeymoon phase already passed ?"

"S-sto-hooop !" As his body twisted uncontrollably, he felt the back of his head collide with something less solid than Johnny's chest.

It cracked.

"OW ! MY NOSE ! WHAT THE HELL PETE ?"

"I TOLD YOU TO STOP !" Peter yelled in a panic as he rose off his boyfriend, who was clutching at his dripping nose.

"Oh no, are you okay ?!" Sue exclaimed.

"IT'S BLEEDING !" Johnny pointed out angrily. The red liquid was pouring all over his designer PJ's.

"I'm so sorry ! But also not, because you deserved that !" (his body was still periodically shaken by tremors from the tickling torture) "But I'm still sorry, uh, Pumpkin !?"

"Children," Reed sighed tiredly, but no one paid him any mind in the agitation around the bruised nose.

It was just another weekend at the Baxter Building.

* * *

Peter woke up to an empty bed.

He moved until he was on the other side of it, still delightfully warm, and burrowed himself into Johnny's pillow. This mattress was a trap. He could not get out.

His mind, however, had different ideas from his body wishes, running a mile per second as it catalogued each thing he had planned to do today and also in the next year over and over again. He sighed, resigned to the reality of the fact that his brain was physically unable to let him sleep in.

Whatever. He was hungry, anyway.

He blinked sleepy tears out of his eyes as he sat down on the bed. The sensation of waking up to a clear world instead of a blurry one would never cease to amaze him ; eyesight correction was definitely one of the best abilities the spider bite had provided him (he would never have been able to afford laser surgery. That shit was expensive). He reached out to take his mask from the bedside table, but he did not move to slip it on, rubbing his finger against the thick material, thinking.

He left the mask on a pillow as he shrugged on a sweatshirt over his pajamas and went out of Johnny's bedroom.

He felt shaky as he approached the noisy kitchen. He could hear the four family members inside, chatting relatively quietly. He only hesitated briefly in front of the door before going in, resisting the impulse to put on his hood as protection. He purposefully avoided looking at the three people sat down at the table (their conversation had cut off upon his entrance ; of course they instantly noticed their former intern invading their personal space) and strode over to Johnny, who was turned away from him while he busied himself with the stove with far too much food for just one person.

Even if Peter's steps were silent, Johnny must have heard the door open over the sizzling noise of beacon cooking because he didn't jump when his boyfriend wrapped his arms around his waist to backhug him, hiding his face in the dip between his shoulder and neck.

"Are you making me breakfast ?" Peter cooed, ignoring the erratic beat of his anxious heart. "How romantic."

"Of course, anything for you, my love," Johnny answered automatically, shifting his weight to his heels to press back against Peter. The latter felt the blond stiffen as he did so. Johnny reached behind him with the hand that wasn't holding the pan to touch Peter's head, or more precisely his hair. He must have sensed it brushing his skin. His fingertips slid down to skim over his naked cheek, one ring finger nearly stabbing Peter in the eye.

"Hum. Do you... need to go to the bathroom ?" Johnny asked, trying to give him an out. Weirdly, his terrible lack of subtlety made Peter relax and he let out a snort.

"Nah, don't worry." He let go of his boyfriend with a fleeting kiss on the beauty mark on the nape of his neck, though he let one hand linger on his hip.

"Please, spare us the PDA," Ben grumbled. "We get it, you're together, woo-hoo. Keep it in your pants."

Finally, Peter gathered enough courage to turn and face the FF, conscious of Johnny's watchful eye on them as he sat at the breakfast table. Sue smiled at him warmly as he helped himself to some toast. "Good morning, Peter," she said. So she recognized him -that, or Johnny had slipped up enough time in her presence for her to catch on his name.

"Morning Sue, Reed," he greeted. "Ben, your jealousy is showing, be careful."

To their credit, the three of them followed his facade of casualness and did not try to redirect the conversation to his unmasking, despite the cogs Peter could see spinning in Reed's irises. There would be time to discuss his identity later ; the first step was acceptance, and the lack of interrogation proved that they were giving it to him unconditionally.

They truly were the best.

"Jealousy ? Why would I be jealous ? I have Alicia, in case you forgot."

"Yes, but your relationship already dates back," Peter blinked innocently. "I'm sure you miss the feeling of the first weeks of dating... You know how it is with fresh couples. We can't really control our need for PDA, it's all so new and thrilling."

"You _knowin'_ that we know is new," Ben stressed. "You can't make me believe you haven't been doin' the exact same things behind closed doors for at least a year."

Johnny slid in the seat next to Peter, putting one giant plate of beacon between them.

"Believe what you want, we don't care," Torchy lied shamelessly. They were both dead-set on proving them wrong. "You'll be forced to admit the truth when we celebrate our first anniversary at the next Comic Con. Say 'aaaaah', Honey."

Peter stared at the greasy piece of beacon Johnny had rolled up and was holding to him, a mix of fat and oil dripping slowly down his fingers and onto the table. He tried to communicate the feeling of _are you fucking serious_ solely with his eyebrows as he opened his mouth and let his boyfriend stuff the piece of meat in it. Ben groaned loudly, disgusted, as Peter munched on the too-big slice with some difficulty. He coughed slightly as he swallowed, a tear swelling at the corner of his eye at the feeling of the slightly burnt part of the slice scratching his throat. He gave a forced, hypocritical smile in answer to Johnny's mocking smirk.

"Thank you, darling. Here, have some of my toast," he said as he shoved the piece of buttered bread forcefully into his boyfriend's mouth, who gagged as it hit the back of his throat.

"I'm starting to believe that you two are actually fake-dating," Sue deadpanned as her brother choked on bread crumbs. Reed extended his elastic arm to hand him a glass of water.

"Why ?" Peter asked, shocked. "We're just taking care of each other."

"Is that a euphemism for 'mutual murder' ?" she quipped.

Johnny finished his last gulp of water in time to answer before Peter. "It's called testing boundaries," he said with a hoarse voice. "And you stabbed one of my boundary with toast."

"I'm sorry, hun," Peter apologized half-sincerely, patting Johnny on the cheek. He got a pout for all response.

Reed was apparently sick of the childish display, as he suddenly asked : "Peter, if I remember correctly, you're a student at the ESU, right ?"

"Uh, yes."

"Do you have classes today ?"

"Yeah, but only at eleven, though. I've got time."

"I can give you a lift, if you want," the scientist offered. "I have an appointment with a professor here. It wouldn't be a problem."

Peter hesitated. "Are you sure ? I don't want to be a bother. I can take the subway." He usually avoided swinging to the ESU in broad daylight ; it was better if no one made the connection between his college and Spider-Man.

Reed dismissed his concerns with a shake of his head. "I'm supposed to have lunch there, anyway. Being a bit early won't hurt."

Peter knew fighting him on this was pointless, so he thanked him and turned back to his plate of food. A dozen of small rolls were waiting for him.

"I've cut each slice in three parts," Johnny unnecessarily specified. Then he took one, put it between his teeth, and got right into Peter's face like some kind of parody of a pocky game. "Shay 'aaah'," he managed to articulate without dropping the beacon.

"I wish they'd take you up on your offer about privacy," Ben sighed to Sue as Peter bit into the pork.

* * *

Honestly, it sometimes scared Peter a little, how strongly he'd latched onto Johnny.

It must have been a side-effect of the rest of his social life being so empty (well, apart from his first two years of college), but he sometimes felt overly dependent on Johnny, emotionally speaking. Simply put, he and May were the only people close to him currently in New-York. Yes, he texted and called MJ all the time, and he got along with his co-workers at the Bugle and with some vigilantes, but he couldn't exactly rely on them the way he did with his aunt and boyfriend.

Which was why, despite the awe-inducing beauty of it, Peter kind of freaked each time Johnny went nova high in the sky.

Granted, Spider-Man and the Fantastic Four did not often team up. They kind of evolved in different spheres. The FF did not really have a role to play in Peter's vigilantism work, and neither Spidey nor Peter could very well leave New-York City to go on a space trip with them. Even when they dealt with threats on Earth, it wasn't necessarily in the city, and most of the time they didn't need outside assist, so Peter had not had the unfortunate opportunity to see Johnny going into nova mode more than twice in his life.

Still. Anyone would be a bit miffed at having to stand by and watch as their significant other burned in the sky to finish off a giant floating jellyfish, only to plummet to the ground in the next few seconds. Johnny hadn't straight up fainted, and he'd had the foresight to keep just enough energy to flicker on and off like a defective switch to break the speed of his fall so he wouldn't snap in half when Reed caught him, but it was still disturbing to witness.

"I could have finished it," Peter scolded as Reed softly lowered Johnny back to the ground. Sue immediately came behind her brother to support his upper body with a careful hand.

"Not without a reenactment of Godzilla, you couldn't. I'll be fine," Johnny slurred, blinking fast. Behind him, the corpse of the scorched jellyfish monster was giving out a putrid smell reminescent of fishes cooked past their best.

"Have you even ever seen Godzilla ?"

"No need. Huge dinosaur smashes buildings. People die. Chaos."

"You really should take it easy, Johnny," Sue stressed. The traits of her face were strained, but Peter couldn't tell if it was because of the efforts she made during battle or out of concern for her sibling.

"It wasn't even a full nova burst," the Torch protested. "Else you'd know."

"You still used a lot of your energy," Reed observed. "You can't flame on anymore. Rest."

"Pschht. You guys worry too much. I know my limits !"

"O-kay, Sparky... sit down for a sec and drink water or something, you're swaying." Peter tried to redirect Johnny towards a bench, without much success.

"No. I feel better already. In fact, I'll prove it to you. Come 'ere." Johnny failed to get a grip on his tight suit, so he grabbed Peter's wrist to pull the vigilante toward him instead.

"What are you planning ?"

"C'mere," he insisted. "Come on."

Peter decided to indulge him and let himself be shifted around until he was right in front of the blond, who looked oddly determined, in a tired way. Johnny then slipped an arm behind Peter and applied pressure on his lower back as he side-stepped his bewildered boyfriend, as if to push him forward. He used his other hand to shove Peter's shoulder weakly in the opposite direction. Peter did not move an inch. He hadn't even needed his powers for his two feet to stick to the ground. Johnny slipped on the gravel and stumbled. Spidey had to catch him under the elbow to steady him.

"What... did you just try to do ?"

The Torch pouted. "I wanted to dip and kiss you."

Peter gawked. "Are you serious."

"Yeah."

"You wanted to kiss me. With my mask on."

Johnny frowned. "...I didn't think this through."

"Please don't make out in front of us," Ben cut them off. His voice had lost the heat of the first few days and now bore a long-suffering weariness. He was already resigned to his fate.

But not quite enough, if he still found the will to protest verbally. Honestly, that was a provocation. No one could blame Peter for reacting to it.

He lifted the mask to his nose. Johnny perked up.

Peter slipped an arm behind his back and took his hand. Johnny let himself fall backward, rightfully trusting his boyfriend to keep him from falling on his ass, and Peter kissed him dramatically, much to the Thing's audible despair.

A chorus of cheers and gasps welcomed the action. Even with his eyes closed and the lenses of his mask protecting them, Peter could perceive flashes fluttering through his eyelids. They broke the kiss, and Johnny let go of his shoulders to lower his mask for him, beaming as he winked at the animated line of cops and reporters guarding the barriers separating the giant jellyfish corpse from civilians.

"You knew they were there," Peter accused, amused.

"GET IT, SPIDEY !" screamed a young cop. His superior smacked him on the head, thunderous expression twisting her face. The reporters' crazed questions about their relationship fell on deaf ears as they all yelled over each other in their exalted confusion for this scoop.

"So did you. You still lifted your mask for me," Johnny grinned as Peter sneaked an arm under his knees to carry him bridal style.

"Well, yeah. Now they'll know who made you these hickeys."

Johnny stopped waving cheerfully at the news crews to blink at him. "What hickeys ?"

"Wink wink nudge nudge," Spidey said aloud, because his arms were currently occupied and his eyes obscured.

"I love seeing you two happy, but please, stop," Sue whined. "That's my baby brother you're talking about."

" _'Baby'_ brother," Peter parroted mockingly in a low voice. Johnny hit his cheekbone with his knuckles without applying any strength to it. "You're as young as me, dumbass."

"They shouldn't be allowed out in public," Reed muttered. "You'll be the only thing headlines will talk about, tomorrow. _The Bugle_ is going to spin it into a scandal."

"Sorry, sorry, we'll behave," Johnny sing-sang.

Nobody was fooled. Sue shook her head, but she couldn't hide her small smile as they all started heading back to the Quinjet, her and Reed leading the way. Johnny was apparently satisfied with being fussed over if it took the form of Peter carrying him around. He used the arm he'd slung over Peter's shoulder as leverage to whisper into his ear.

"I'll still have to dip you in front of cameras, too. For equality's sake. And because it was my idea first, you plagiarizer."

"'course, Firebug," (at some point, the pet names had become an automatism even when their conversation was meant for the both of them alone), "if that makes you more secure in your masculinity."

The Human Torch was one of the last men you could accuse of being overly defensive about his manliness, and Johnny knew it, because he did not even bother to respond to the easy jab. "And I'll make you hickeys, too," he added a tinge louder. Next to them, Ben cringed and hastened his pace to get away from them.

"I don't think you can. I heal fast, remember ?" Peter reminded.

"That just means that I've got myself a challenge."

Peter lowered his tone. "You better be up to the task, then." He felt his boyfriend shiver in his arms and counted it as a victory.

* * *

"Wow, you were right," Johnny noted a few days later as Peter strolled in the kitchen, collection of pinkish bruises exposed by the low collar of his old stretched tee. "They're fading already."

Ben finally snapped.

"FINE ! We get it, you really weren't secretly dating, because obviously you obnoxious brats wouldn't have been able to keep it on the low ! Now stop shoving your sex life into our goddamn faces ! Some people are trying to _eat_ !"

"And to not feel the urge to bleach their brain," Sue added in a mumble. Reed refused to even look at them.

Peter and Johnny exchanged triumphant grins and high-fived.

_Make sure people had the facts right about their relationship : success._

"Just so ya know, that makes you losers," Ben grumbled later on, as Peter was about to depart for his patrol.

"What do you mean ?" Johnny asked, offended.

Ben snorted. "We could tell ya were going to end up hitched years ago. Can't believe it took you so damn long to get yer shit together."

The young couple glanced at each other, taken aback. Ben threw them one last jab as he walked away.

  
"Not only ya ain't slick, but yer damn oblivious too. What a pair of morons. You brats are perfect for each other."

_End_

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think ? <3 Reviews really heal one's heart after a rough day !


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